In the Shadow of the Star: Part 2 - Page 2 - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

piosenniel · 07-01-2003, 01:08 PM

Falmar moved in a swift rhythm down the Great East Road. The few Hobbits abroad that late night stepped back in fear as the dark cloaked figure rode past them, bent low over the horse’s neck, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

An Elf, they cried as she rode past. Her visage was grim, they recalled, as they recounted the sight to their wives, and moonlight glinted on the blades she carried. In the wind of her passing, her long cloak flew behind her, and she swept her gaze along the road as if seeking something. They were certain, though, that her eyes swept over them as if they were nothing. That the great horse she rode would have run over them as if they were merely part of the road, so intent were the two of them on their prey.

‘She was hunting something, that’s for sure,’ said one of the Hobbits to his wife. And from the look on her face, it will be a very unpleasant meeting for the one she seeks.’ His wife, remembering the recent stories of the ruffians in the Shire and the children taken, pushed her reluctant husband out the door and sent him running to the office of the Watch, just west of Frogmorton.

‘The Bounders should be warned,’ she told him, shoving his cap back into his hand as she bustled him out of the burrow. ‘Hurry along now! Let the First Eastfarthing Troop know that there’s trouble afoot tonight with the Big Folks.’

Not wanting to encounter another fearful figure on the road, he twisted his cap in his hands and looked imploringly at his wife. ‘You get on down to the Shiriff’s place now, Benton Marshburrow. Let him know what you’ve seen. Tell him his sister does not fancy being murdered in her bed, while her lazy git of a brother snores in his!’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Merimas Bolger was up early making his first round of the stables at the Floating Log in the chilly dark before the day dawned. Everything seemed in order. The horses were still quiet, and the Inn just across the yard had only a few patrons out on early business. He could see one of kitchen help come out the back door to empty the last of the dishwater onto the pebbled area to the side of the step. Seeing him, she waved and went back in. Only the small welcome light to the side of the main door, and a single light in the common room shown into the darkness of early morn.

He stepped back into the stables and closed the doors securely. A soft rustling caused him to turn quickly, and he gasped as a tall, cloaked and hooded figure stepped toward him in the pale light afforded by the small open window to his right and the setting moon.

‘Merimas, I seek some information from you. A silver penny for you for your time, and two if you have what I need.’

The voice was familiar, and as the gloved hands reached up to throw back the hood, he grinned, as her face was revealed.

‘Mistress Piosenniel! I thought never to see you again. What brings you here, and at so late an hour.’ He frowned as his eyes took in how she was dressed and armed. Merimas peered round her, his eyes looking into the darkness behind her. ‘And where is Falmar, mistress? Shall I see to her?’

‘No time for that now, Merimas, perhaps when I return.’ She drew him near and told him what had happened. His eyes narrowed at the kidnapping of her wee ones, and he listened closely to what Rose had told her of the ruffian’s whereabouts.

The Bounders had been busy in the northern section of the Eastfarthing he told her – ever since the first kidnapping. There had been reports of Big Folk crossing over into the Shire in that area, and hints that they had some hidey-hole around the quarries near Scary. Patrols had been increased, and there had been no recent sightings or reports of any activity. It was believed by the Watch that the ruffians had withdrawn back somewhere around Bree.

‘And how do you know this,’ she asked. The direction she took from the Inn would depend on his answer. Merimas walked over to the door of his little room. Reaching just inside it, he pulled out a green cap that hung there on a peg, with a feather stuck in it. He put it on his head, and straightened up into an official looking posture.

‘When the business started with the kidnappings and the sightings of the Big Folk, many of us were asked to volunteer for the Watch. We meet weekly to keep everyone informed of what we’ve seen and heard. That’s how I know what I’ve just told you.’

Pio breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that many hours of searching had now been eliminated. ‘Have you heard where in Bree they have gone?’

‘I’m sorry, m’lady, but we have not. No news has recently come from Bree, and we’ve been reluctant to go poking our noses there.’ He thought for a moment, then nodded his head as if something had come to him. ‘You know, I have friend in Buckland, in Stock. He’s the hostler at the inn there – The Golden Perch. He would have more recent news as the Bucklanders have more to do with the folk in Bree-land than we do.’ He motioned her over to the desk that stood to the side of his room. ‘Here, let me write a note to him for you. His name is Tomlin, ‘Tommy’, Goold, and he’ll be staying there like I do here.’

He saw her out to the darkened yard, and held the horse’s reins as she mounted. She fished in the pouch at her belt for a penny, but he held up his hand and shook his head. ‘My pleasure,’ he said, ‘and my duty, too’ He jammed the cap on his head and waved her off. Once gone from sight, he turned and waking one of the sleeping ponies, galloped west, making for the Shiriff’s house.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mithadan! I am bound for Bree. Where are they taking them?

No urging needed, Falmar flew down the road toward Buckland . . .

Mithadan's Post:

In the midst of all this, Piosenniel's voice appeared in Mithadan's head. He responded curtly. No time. Ferny's place south and east of the east gate of Bree. Then he returned his attention to the matters at hand.

[ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-01-2003, 01:36 PM

The ruffians moved swiftly over the gravely paths that wound through the hills north of The Water; clenched tightly in Stoatie's fist was the handle of a small pronged whip that he used to smack his horse's flanks urging him forward at a hard gallop. Stoatie also kept a close eye on Gilly registering every move she made. Whenever she threatened to lag too far behind, he reached over with his lash and snapped it across her horse's withers to be sure she kept up the pace. Although the men managed to overtake the village of Budge Ford in a little over three hours, mounting exhaustion forced them to divert off the path and lead the horses down to the stream so they could wade in and drink. All three animals stood panting in the stream, with the water rising close to their bellies and their sides heaving rhythmically in and out. The group would clearly not be able to continue this pace without stopping for a real rest.

"How much longer we got to go?" Shifty whined. "I'm achin' and hungry and half dead."

Stoatie lowered his voice and growled, "Shut yer trap. Anyways, we still gotta ways. It's another eight, nine hours to Bree."

"All the way to Bree?" Shifty interjected in an irritated voice. "But I thought....."

Stoatie cut him off. "You think too much fer your own good. Now shut yer trap or the hobbit rat will git some ideas."

Gilly was now sitting stiffly in her saddle, staring over at the ruffians with a look of undisguised disgust on her face.

"Nah," grumbled Shifty shrugging his shoulders. "She's just a dumb rat who don't know nothin'." With that the two men put their heads together and began to whisper, mulling over the details of the route.

Gilly patiently watched from the back of her horse, then slid down still holding the twins and tred warily over to the spot where the men were talking. The babies had stopped their demanding howls and were instead wimpering and looking out at the world with disaproving eyes that refused to focus. Gathering all her courage, Gilly siddled up to Stoatie and tugged insistently at his sleeve.

"Excuse me, but I hope your boss likes dead babies because that's what's going to happen soon."

"What ya talkin' about?" Stoatie glowered and peered over towards the brats.

"These babies haven't had a drop to drink for nine hours or more... "

"So what? Give 'em water!" Stoatie jerked his thumb towards the stream.

Gilly stubbornly shook her head. "Babies aren't like that. They need milk or juice. Plus I don't have any bottles. They can't drink without bottles."

The nursemaid turned away with a shrug, "It's your decision. If your boss doesn't mind dead babies, it's all the same to me. After all, one Big Folk is the same as another. I'm not going to stick my neck out." She looked around the glade and went to sit down in a patch of tall grass plucking off a few of the flowers and beginning to weave a chain of daisies.

She's lyin', Stoatie thought. But he wasn't sure. He knew very little about babies. And to tell the truth, these two looked a lot more wobbly than when he'd first seen them.

He glanced over to where the woman was seated. "So what d'ya expect me to do. I ain't got no cow or bottles out 'ere. And no hobbit is gonna welcome a man even if I was willin' to stop."

"That's not true," countered Gilly quietly, continuing to pluck daisies and carefully intertwine them. "The border towns like Stock or Rushy have been known to do business with the Big Folk for a long time, especially those that bring along a hobbit friend. The Bree merchants offload their goods there; their hobbit partners turn a pretty penny for hauling them into the Shire. If they were to see you with me, they'd just assume we were trading partners."

"If yer lyin', I'll kill you and the kids."

I'm not lying," responded Gilly as she steadily met his gaze. "We're only a few miles from Stock. The Golden Perch would have exactly what I need. But it's up to you, of course." She put her head down, stared intently at the pattern of her skirts, while continuing to braid her flowers.

"Come on Boss," Shifty pleaded. "I'm hungry as the blazes, and the horses look like they're keelin' over. Anyways, how many people will be up and about in the wee hour before sunrise?"

"All right," growled Stoatie. "But this is what we're gonna do. Shifty is gonna
stay outside hidin' with the boy brat. You make one funny move, and that's the end of 'im."

"Suit yourself," noted Gilly, casually shrugging her shoulders. "I'll just find him an extra bottle and bring it back with me."

With that, the band turned and headed for the Perch, making their way southward through the meadows of high grass. By the time they reached the outskirts of the tiny hamlet, it was still a good hour before dawn and everyone appeared to be asleep. Stoatie pulled his hooded cloak over his face and pushed open the door to the Inn. The nursemaid followed along behind holding the baby girl in the cradle of her arm and clutching the wicker handle of the diaper basket with her other hand.

[ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-02-2003, 02:25 AM

The Inn was quiet, the yard deserted. Gilly looked up to where the chimney at the rear of the roof was. Good! There was a thin stream of smoke drifting up into the pale sky. If the cook here were anything like Cook at the Green Dragon, she would have been up already for several hours with her baking, and would just be settling in for a cup of strong tea before the morning rush began.

To her right, there was a single light in the stable, shining out through the open window. The hostler, too, would be up, going from stall to stall seeing to his charges. It gave her some hope that in the craziness of the last hours, the daily wheel of routine rolled on in the Shire.

Stoatie gripped her hard at the elbow, hissing low at her as they climbed the steps not to try anything funny. It was all she could do not to cry out at his hurtful touch, but she bit her lip and hugged the little girly tightly, remembering that the awful Shifty held her brother.

They entered the Common Room, and Gilly could feel Stoatie push up against her now, the sharp tip of his knife concealed in the folds of his cloak. He nodded toward the grey haired Hobbit who stood behind the bar, a clean white rag in one hand, polishing a tray of mugs. ‘Git over there and see if she’ll get you what you need. Get us some food, too, while you’re at it. Have her pack us a basket, so’s Shifty can eat, too.’

Stoatie nudged her with his knife, pushing her forward.

‘Your pardon, ma’am,’ said Gilly as she approached the woman, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. ‘My partner and I are bound for Deephallow, to trade some goods for mushrooms and Marish mead. We’ve been traveling a long while and we’re hungry.’

The woman looked out the front window of the Inn and raised an eyebrow slightly at the girl’s story. ‘Trade goods, eh?’ she thought to herself. ‘Well I wonder where their wagon is. The girl looks nervous, and that Man she’s with is a nasty piece of work, if I’ve ever seen one.’ She moved nearer the counter, putting her hand to the stout cudgel her husband kept under the bar.

The little girl whimpered, and Gilly bent her head to her, patting her on the back in an attempt to quiet her down. The woman’s face softened at the sight, though she kept one eye on Stoatie. ‘Here let me hold the wee babe! I’ve got a way with the little ones.’ She reached out for the girl, and Stoatie ground his teeth in irritation.

‘Asphodel Bracegirdle,’ said the woman, running her finger along the baby’s soft cheek. ‘My husband’s Rory, the Innkeeper.’ She looked at Gilly. ‘And you are?’ Stoatie cleared his throat at this question and glowered at Gilly from under his hood. ‘Rose,’ she stuttered, ‘Rose Goodchild and this is . . .’

The baby turned her head eagerly toward stroking finger, seeking it with her mouth. Asphodel, distracted, did not press further for Stoatie’s name. ‘Ah, you’re hungry little one. Where’s her bottle,’ she asked looking up at Gilly.

Gilly’s mind worked furiously. ‘We had an accident with the basket that held some of the supplies. It fell off the cart. The babies’ bottles broke.’ She smiled ingratiatingly at Asphodel. ‘Would you by any chance have a couple I could buy from you?’

Asphodel carried the baby toward the door into the kitchen. She propped it open with one foot and yelled in. ‘Salvia! We’ve got some hungry customers here. Bring ‘em a couple of plates. And those bottles we keep for the babies, warm some milk and fill ‘em up for the wee ones we’ve got visiting.’

Stoatie glared at her, and clenched his fists. He didn’t like that she had the baby, and now she was talking about two of ‘em. Gilly blanched, too, at the mention of two babies, and said she must be mistaken - it was just the little girl who needed the bottle.

‘Oh, is that so?’ said Asphodel, lifting her chin to nod at the door behind them. ‘Then who’s that?’

There stood Shifty in the doorway, looking dumbfounded at the squalling bundle he held at arms’ length in front of him. ‘I can’t stand it no more, boss!’ he whined, thrusting the screaming infant at Stoatie. ‘The kid won’t stop squawking and he’s wet to boot. Here! You take him!’ The vein at Stoatie’s temple throbbed viciously as he took in the situation and felt his control slowly slipping away.

Gilly ran between the two men and took the baby from Shifty. ‘Here, I’ll take care of him.’ Asphodel stepped up to her side. ‘You two gentlemen just take a seat and Salvia will have some food for you in just a moment. Rose, bring the baby over here, and we’ll get them both changed.

Stoatie kept his eye on the two women, and Gilly could see his hand on the hilt of his knife. She got out clean diapers and a little blanket to lay on the table that Asphodel indicated they would use. They were near to finishing up when Salvia blew in loudly from the kitchen with the plates of food and chatted up the two men. ‘Are you alright?’ whispered Asphodel. As she slipped a clean gown over the girl’s head.

‘Girl! You done with them babies yet?’ growled Stoatie, his mouth half full of ham and biscuit. ‘Get over here and get something to eat. We got to get going.’

‘I’m almost done!’ she called back to him. He and Shifty went back to stuffing their faces, and Gilly leaned in close to Asphodel as she scooped up the boy. ‘The name is Gilly,’ she whispered. ‘Someone will be looking for us. Give her this.’ She thrust the wadded up square of cloth into Asphodel’s hands. ‘And tell her Fern’ys place . . .’

Stoatie had gotten up from the table by then, suspicious of the two women with their heads together. ‘Shifty’s done,’ he said, ‘and so am I. We got business to be takin’ care of. Haul yourself and them out the door now.’ He grabbed the bottles of milk with leather nipples from the cook, and shoved them into the pockets of his cloak, and hurried Gilly out the door, Shifty trailing in his wake.

Shifty shoved her roughly up onto the horse’s back and thrust the babies at her. ‘Keep ‘em quiet,’ he threatened her. ‘I can’t stand another minute of one of them bawlin.’

She settled them in against her in her improvised sling, and propped the bottles for them to feed. ‘Please Pio,’ she whispered to herself, ‘Find us soon.’

Stoatie slapped her horse into a quick pace and took the lead, shouting at Shifty to make sure she kept up the pace . . .

Child of the 7th Age · 07-02-2003, 08:06 AM

Mithadan's post

Upon hearing Halfred's cry, Ferny spun around. Several Hobbits stepped out from the trees bordering the clearing and advanced upon the Men with bows at ready. Mithadan turned and, still holding Frodo, stepped forward until he was a pace away from Ratty.

Ferny laughed and waved his sword in the direction of the Hobbits. "Step away now!" he cried. "If you come any closer we'll kill your little friend Frodo! We're leaving and you'd best not follow us."

Halfred and his deputies fanned out in a line twenty paces from where Ferny stood and held their ground. From the far side of the clearing several more Hobbits stepped out from the trees and raised their bows.

"If they follow us, slit his throat Mithy," cried Ferny. "Let's go!"

Mithadan shifted his weight and turned his sword so that its edges were parallel to the ground. Then he leapt to the side, dragging Frodo with him and swung his blade at Ratty with strength fueled by the rage which had built up within him over the past few days. Ratty collapsed to the ground with his neck half severed. Mithadan spun, shoving Frodo behind him as he turned, and raised his sword to face Ferny.

"Traitor!" cried the ruffian.

"You are the traitor, Ferny," replied Mithadan quietly. "In the name of Elessar King of Gondor and the Reunited Kingdoms you are under arrest. Drop your blade!"

Ferny looked from Mithadan to the Hobbit archers and licked his lips nervously. Then, with a fey laugh, he lunged at Mithadan. Ferny fell with three arrows in his chest. Behind him, more bows twanged and two of the ruffians fell as well. The remaining two dropped their weapons and raised their hands.

Sam raced forward from the trees and hugged Frodo tightly before turning to Mithadan. "Thank you," he said. "You've been a good friend to The Shire."

"We're not done yet," said Mithadan grimly. "Stoat has taken Gilly and the twins to Ferny's plantation in Bree. Fosco and the other children are there as well. We must gather some strength of arms and be off before Stoat realizes that something has gone awry!"

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-02-2003, 10:38 AM

Trussed up like geese, ready for the spit, the two remaining ruffians were marched off to the Locks under the watchful eye of Filibert. Halfred had held a hurried conference with his brother, and after some brief argument, Filibert had seen the reasoning behind his brother’s request that he stay behind and act as Shiriff in his stead.

‘I’ll send round some lads with a wagon,’ said Filibert as he took charge of the prisoners. ‘We’ll take the dead ones up north a ways and put them in some unmarked hole in one of the empty fields. Fitting enough, I should think, that they feed the worms and enrich the soil they so despised.’ He mounted on his pony, and pulling the two men secured to his saddle by a long rope, stumbling along behind him, disappeared down the little path from the pool to the road.

Halfred rejoined the others in the group – Milo, Hugo, Sam, Hob, and the three Boffin brothers. They held a short discussion with Mithadan, then mounted up, and made their way, too, down to the road that headed east.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-03-2003, 02:37 AM

The sun had crested the Hithaeglir by the time Pio reached the eastern bounds and turned south to Stock. The well worn dirt road that lead to the Golden Perch was already starting its run of morning traffic. A farmer with a handcart filled with fresh vegetables, another with a pig and a basket of mushrooms made their way in the chill morning air to the Inn’s kitchen door.

Pio drew her hood forward, her face well hidden in its folds, and slumped wearily on the back of her mount, giving the impression of a tired traveler seeking the comforts of the Inn. There were no other riders near the stable as she entered the yard, urging Falmar toward the rear of the stable.

The stableman was drawing water for the horses from the pump when she spied him. Dismounting, she walked quietly up to him, clearing her throat as she neared to draw his attention. ‘May I help you, Miss?’ he asked, shading his eyes with his hand as he tried to see her face. She pushed back the hood and held out her hand with the note from Merimas.

‘Tomlin Goold, is it?’ she asked, placing the folded piece of paper in his hand.

‘Oh, aye,’ he returned, ‘though “Tommy” is what I prefer.’

He set down the bucket, and unfolded the message, scanning it quickly. Merimas had sent her, he read, asking that his good friend, Tommy, assist her as he could. As they walked back to the stable, Pio explained the urgency of her mission and asked for news concerning any rough looking Big Folk traveling through the area and in particular anything he knew about the kidnappers.

‘It’s strange you should ask that,’ he began, and proceeded to tell her of the odd visitors to the Inn just before dawn. Mistress Asphodel, the Innkeeper’s wife, had waked him up and sent him for the Shiriff, he said. ‘Come into the Inn and you can speak to her yourself.’

‘It’s almost as if she were expecting me,’ Pio thought, as the woman took her by the arm and led her to a secluded table. Asphodel pitched her voice low and gave Pio an accounting of what had gone on in the early hours. ‘She didn’t tell me who would be looking for her, but she said someone would. She said to make sure I told you her name was Gilly. And that it was “Ferny’s Place” . . . and, oh, this also.’ She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the folded cloth square. ‘The men were rough that she was with, and she seemed afraid of them, and asked me not to do anything to put her in more danger. She said that someone would come for her. I did nothing while she was there with them, but once they left I sent for the Shiriff to tell him what had happened.’

The Elf’s face was grim as she listened to the woman’s story, but softened as she stared at the square. Her clear grey eyes sough the Hobbit’s, a small spark of hope banked within. ‘The babies,’ she asked, her face serious once again. ‘Did you see them? Were they well?’ She steeled herself against the answer.

Asphodel’s mouth opened with a little ‘O’ of surprise as the truth registered in her mind. ‘You’re their Mother, aren’t you?’ She reached out her hand and placed it on Pio’s arm. ‘She’s taking good care of them. They’re fed, and warm and dry. I think it was for their sakes that she wanted no fuss made that might make the men angry.’

Pio stood to leave, thanking Asphodel for her help as she did so. ‘I’ll not keep you,’ said the Innkeeper’s wife, ‘but let me get you a small packet of food for your ride to Bree.’ Tommy had seen to Falmar while she talked to Asphodel. Watered and fed, wiped down, and her bridle readjusted, she shook her head as Pio approached, declaring herself ready to go. Tommy held the reins as Pio mounted, and Asphodel handed her up the packet of food. They both wished her well as she sped off; then, Asphodel sent Tommy back to the Shiriff’s. ‘Tell him one of the Fair Folk has come to the Inn. It was those kidnappers who passed through here early this morning. And it’s her babies they’ve taken this time.’

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Falmar flew east, her hooves swallowing up the miles.

Little ones! she called reassuringly to them, I am coming for you. Sleep now. Stay quiet when you wake. Your ammë is near . . .

Mithadan! Ferny’s Place . . . where is it? Show me . . .

piosenniel · 07-04-2003, 01:30 PM

Child's post

From the moment they left the Golden Perch, the ruffians made good time for the remainder of the journey. Reaching the Brandywine at a deserted juncture, they'd picked up fresh steeds from one of Ferny's men who was waiting with a raft to ferry them across. The men breathed a sigh of relief to leave the Shire behind them with no one the wiser for their presence.

Even after they'd crossed the river, they were careful to stay off the main highway. Stoatie knew the territory well and managed to keep the group going steadily eastward using a maze of hidden paths which lay just north of the roadway. It was shortly after lunch when they approached the outskirts of Bree. Intent on getting back as soon as he could, Stoatie refused to listen to Gilly's pleas for another rest stop, smacking her sharply across the jaw when she refused to shut up. They skirted around outside the city's fortification and, within a short time, had arrived at the entrance to the Plantation, banging loudly on the gate and alerting the entire camp to their arrival.

[ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-04-2003, 08:04 PM

At least they were done riding. Gilly was thankful for that. She and the babies had been shoved into a small cottage that stood at the far end of the plantation. Run down from the outside, it was hardly better on the inside. It was filthy, the windows all painted over and nailed shut, affording them no fresh air for circulation or any light save the single lantern that was on briefly at night, or so she had been told. Some sunlight filtered in through the thin layer of paint, but it only succeeded in making the interior seem gloomier and dirtier than if light had been allowed through.

Scattered about on the floor were several dirty mattresses, with only thin, raggedy blankets thrown on them. Two Hobbit children were sitting on one of the mattresses when she was roughly pushed in through the door, and they looked up at her, quickly averting their eyes as if she might have been sent to hurt them. On one of the other mattresses sat a small, dirty boy she was sure she knew. He looked up at her boldly, wiping his runny nose on the ragged sleeve of his shirt. She sat down next to him, and leaned in close, ‘Fosco?’

There was a noise at the door, someone turning the key and coming in. Fosco looked at Gilly and put his fingers to his lips. ‘Pretend you don’t know her when she comes in,’ he said to her, in case one of the other bad men is with her. ‘Who?’ whispered Gilly.

Bright light spilled in through the open door, partially blinding Gilly as it hit her eyes. Blinking a few time to clear her sight, she dared a look at the two Big Folk who entered. One was Stoatie, who glared at her as he spat on the floor. Gilly gasped when she recognized the other one. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and lowered her eyes to the the floor.

It was Mistress Piosenniel’s friend who had just sauntered in. Bird!

piosenniel · 07-07-2003, 09:09 AM

It is over, here. Tinged with tiredness and a sense of some relief the words broke in on her concentration as she headed south from Stock to cross at the ferry in Buckleberry.

Are you uninjured? she returned, knowing he would minimize it if he were. Still she could not feel any pain come from him.

Must go soon. Plans to be made. Here is the plantation . . . and here the cottage where the children and Bird are. Take care, beloved.

She fixed the clear image in her mind and rode on.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-08-2003, 03:37 PM

Gilly and Bird

A small flicker of hope sprang up, quickly shielded from the prying eyes of Stoatie and that despicable Shifty, who had followed in behind him, slamming the door and waking the twins. Their fussy cries built to a crescendo and Stoatie took a menacing step toward them, his hand at his knife.

‘Get ‘em, Boss!’ snickered Shifty. ‘Those brats are nothin’ but trouble for us anyways. Kill ‘em and dump ‘em on the dunghill.’ His lips creased his face in a nasty smirk as he looked at Gilly.

Bird slapped the knife from Stoatie’s hand and pushed him back hard against Shifty. ‘What’s the matter with you, you dumb sod!’ she screamed at him. She picked up one of the babies and held it up to his face. ‘This ugly little piece of Elf-flesh is our ticket out of here when the mother comes for them . . . and our heads too, I might add. She’s probably hot on your trail even now – or did one of you grow a brain between you and gave some thought to hiding your flight here?!’

Shifty looked warily at Stoatie. ‘By the One! I knew it!’ She gave Shifty a hard cuff on the ear. ‘Get us some milk for them, and make it quick. That’ll shut the little blighters up. The Shire rat here can feed ‘em.’ She glowered menacingly at Gilly, who cringed down as if Bird might decide to strike her.

‘You, too,’ growled Bird, shoving Stoatie out the door. He ran his eyes appraisingly over the small woman, an approving leer fixed on his face. ‘I ain’t got time for your calf-eyes now, Stoat. Get me someone to fetch me some water. We’re just about out of it. This place stinks and the other brats can clean it up a little so’s I can stand to be in here with them.’

Stoatie’s eyes swept about the interior of the shack and his nose crinkled in disgust as he took in the full flavor of the cottage. He winked at Bird then left the reeking room, bellowing for someone to get on it.

Bird crouched down quickly by Gilly, and nestled the baby in her arms. ‘Quickly now, before someone comes. Tell me all that you know and most important, were you able to leave word or a sign for Pio somewhere along your way of where they have taken you.’

Gilly filled her in as best she could, her knowledge, of course, limited only to what had happened to her and the twins. And yes, she had left something for Mistress Piosenniel in Buckland.

Bird listened closely, trying to figure when she could expect the arrival of the Elf. She kicked herself mentally for not polishing up those osanwë skills Pio had tried her best to teach her. At best the ability was sporadic – she never got the whole message anyone sent, and was never sure how much of hers was received. She rubbed her temples, and screwed up her face, eyes shut. Gilly was a little taken aback by the grotesque look on her face, but kept quiet.

Pio! . . . twins . . . Gilly . . . be ready . . .

Bird opened one bloodshot eye at Gilly, wincing in the dim light. She rubbed her brow and pointed to the basket that Gill had brought with her. ‘Any willow bark powder in there,’ she croaked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pio at the plantation

With the instructions from Mithadan held firmly in her mind, Pio dropped south from Buckland before heading east across the South Downs. Angling, then, a little north, she approached Ferny’s place from the south, and waited until the sun had once again dipped below the hills to the west before proceeding in the darkness. She left her horse hidden in a copse of trees and, tucking her cloak about her, went in silently to see how she might get to the cottage he had shown her.

Late yesterday she had gotten a brief message from Bird. It pierced the grim thoughts she had been having – the babies at that time were upset and frightened and had reached out for her. The thought that Bird was there comforted her somewhat. She could count on Bird to see to the safety of the twins and Gilly. But she dared not hope that could last long. She must get them out of there and soon.

The perimeter of the place was patrolled. Though, the guards did not seem all that alert, still there were a fair number of them. Many of which she could eliminate, she knew. But still she would be outnumbered. She withdrew back to where her mount was hidden.

Settling herself down to wait, she sent out three brief messages.

Bird! I am near and awaiting Mithadan.

Mithadan! There are too many here for me alone. Come quickly, bring aid. Will await your arrival.

Little ones she called more gently, your ammë is here. Sleep now. Soon I will come for you . . .

Child of the 7th Age · 07-13-2003, 02:35 PM

Stoatie rambled over to the main building in the compound, the place that Ferny made his home. The room was furnished in a comfortable fashion, complete with a large storage cabinet filled with all types of ale and beers, even some fine wines imported from the south. Peering inside and seeing that no one was there, Stoatie made himself at home in Ferny's easy chair and stuck his shabby boots up on the table. He picked up one of Ferny's pipes and filled it with a handful of the finest weed, tamping it down into the bowl. Stoatie leaned back in the chair and proceeded to send up a whole raft of smokerings. A hobbit would have deemed his rings rather wobbly, but Stoatie was pleased with his results.

Then he barked out orders to the sentry standing guard commanding him to hack off a large haunch of venison from the firepit and bring it in to him on a fine silver plate which they'd stolen from one of the hobbit homes. This was indeed the life. Stoatie lolled back relaxing in the Boss's headquarters with an entire caraffe of wine in one hand and a generous haunch of venison in the other. He wiped his greasy paws on his pants, but ignored the driblets running down his chin or the grease that was spilling over and congealing on the plate.

Pretty soon he'd be living like this every day. No cares, no worries, no more frantic heists. Just a feisty woman like Bird to keep things interesting. Ferny had promised him generous recompense if he could only get the twins, and he'd come through on his part of the bargain. Now it was Ferny's turn to do a little giving.

The venison settled heavily in his stomach; after finishing the entire caraffe of wine and an ale thrown in for good measure, Stoatie found his eyes growing heavier and heavier. Within less than an hour, he had drifted off to sleep dreaming of the day when he would be boss in his own house with a woman at his side responding to his every beck and call.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-13-2003, 02:37 PM

With Cook's good wishes ringing in her ears, Cami had slipped out the back door expecting to head quietly on her own up to the rendezvous point where Halfred and Maura were taking on the thugs. She had not gotten further than a few feet from the gate when she heard the sound of a small band approaching. For a moment her heart lurched in her chest as she wondered if a gang of thugs had stayed behind in the Shire and was about to accost her. But a closer look at the group assuaged her fears.

They were all hobbits, each and every one of them, mostly lads but a few lasses thrown in for good measure. She caught a glimpse of her daughter Rose, Maura's sister Zira and her husband Ban, and even her own son Gamba. There were also a number of local hobbits who made their homes in Hobbiton and Bywater.

"We're coming with you," Merimac declared. "Word's spread all over what's happened to Miz Pio and Gilly and the babies. Miz Pio's been a good friend to us and we're determined to help. Plus Fosco and the other children as well..."

Cami looked sympathetically at Merimac. How hard these weeks must have been for him! The she glanced more warily around the larger group; each of them had at least remembered to bring a weapon and a pony. They were armed for battle, with an assortment of bows, swords, daggers, clubs and pitchforks. "This could be dangerous," she countered. "Very dangerous."

"We know that," a young lass piped in, "but we still want to come."

Cami looked over at Rose who walked her horse forward till she stood at the head of the group and then responded to her mother's unspoken question, "Believe me. This will be alright. Everyone here knows what they're doing. They've all been practicing with their weapons at the classes that Maura and I gave. Many of them have served on the watch."

All right, then," Cami relented. "But it will mean hard, fast riding. Nothing's going to happen to those twins if I can help it."

With that Cami whipped her horse around, and galloped down the path towards the spot on the map where Maura had told her to meet up with them. The band thundered on close behind with each rider straining his or her eyes for the first treasured glimpse of Halfred and his men.

Drawing closer to the designated spot, Cami cautioned the riders to slow their ponies and keep under cover staying as silent as they could. She asked Merimac to creep forward and try and find out what was happening. He disappeared into the thicket and reappeared a short time later, a broad grin on his face. "Frodo is safe. Just a twisted ankle so he had to head back to the Inn. Thank goodness, Ferby's bit the dust. None of the hobbits were seriously injured. Mithadan and Halfred were hoping for reinforcements so we've come just in time."

Cami felt her breath come easier. "Alright then, stay mounted. Merimac lead the way."

Within a moment they had mounted the ridge and could see clearly across the plain. Cami clicked her heels against her pony's side and urged him to gallop forward. At her first sight of Mithadan, she stood up in her stirrups calling out a heartfelt welcome, "Mithadan, thank goodness, you're alright. Look, these folk want to come with us and help." At this point, she nodded to Halfred.

"Halfred, Mithadan. Can we start tonight. Does anyone know where Pio is or where the children have been taken? What can we do to help?"

[ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-14-2003, 02:23 PM

‘We’ll start now,’ returned Halfred to Cami’s question. She glanced up at Mithadan to confirm this statement and he nodded his head yes. ‘Mister Mithadan has laid out a plan for us, and having considered it, I think it will work well.’ Cami glance up again to the man standing behind the Shiriff, but he only raised his brows at this assessment of his strategy, then urged Halfred to carry on.

Halfred hunkered down in a patch of moonlight and picking up a short stick from the ground, drew a crude map of where they would be going. ‘We’ll keep to the Great East Road, here,’ he said, tracing a long line in the dirt. Once we reach Bree-land we’ll turn off here at the south gate of Bree and head south east.’

Mithadan crouched down beside the Shiriff and sketched in the outline of the plantation. ‘It’s a large plantation,’ he said. ‘The north gate, the main entrance is here. And down here in the southern end is the cottage where the children are kept.’ He looked eastward, his grey eyes cold in the moonlight. ‘There are a large number of men who work the plantation. We will need to draw them away from the southern end. That is where Piosenniel will be. And Bird also,’ he said speaking to Cami. ‘We need to give them enough time to get the children out and away.’

‘Yes,’ broke in Halfred, pointing to the main entrance. ‘And that’s where we come in, we need to raise a ruckus here and get them riled up enough to come after us. Some of us will do that while others of us hide in ambush to pick the Big Folk off.’

‘For the most part,’ added Mithadan, they are a band of lazy louts and cravens. Stoatie will push them on against us, and they will do his bidding. Once he is removed as their goad, their resistance will fade away rapidly.’ He stood up, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his blade, the fierce look on his face making his intention clear. Halfred opened his mouth to say something further. Thinking better of it, he whistled for Dumpling, his pony, and mounted up. ‘Let’s go then,’ he called out to the group. ‘Mount up! We’re bound for Bree.’

Down the road they flew, the clatter of the ponies’ hooves ringing loud on the dark road.

Piosenniel! We are riding east now. Will contact you when we have arrived . . .

[ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-14-2003, 02:31 PM

Himaran's post:

Lamplight covered the road in front of the stable, spilling out into the grass on its side. Several workers strode inside, not thinking to look into the bushes beside them. For behind one Frodo-lad lay, pressed down against the ground to avoid detection. After they were gone, the hobbit quietly left his hiding place and hurried inside. Looking around, he saw that no one was around except for several hobbits cleaning out one of the far stalls.

Earlier that day, Frodo-lad had made up his mind to follow the hobbits whom he had heard were going to rescue the twins. He had hidden near the stables for several hours, waiting for them to arrive, and had seen them ride off on their ponies. Now, he hoped to procure one for himself.

Soon finding a steed which suited him, the hobbit lifted the heavy saddle onto it with difficulty and tied a rope to it. Slowly leaving the building, he led the pony through the door and out onto the dusty road. The hobbit breathed a deep sigh of relief; he had not been spotted.

It took him several hours to catch up with the party, due to the darkness. To be sure, his father was angry that he had followed, but Mithadan took pity on Frodo-lad and took his side in the argument. Finally, it was agreed that he could stay with the group, as long as he was quiet and would not go wandering off like he did so often at home. Frodo-lad promised to obey the rules, and the party rode off down the road once again.

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-14-2003, 03:23 PM

Frodo came slowly up the steps of the Dragon with one hand fastened tightly on the bannister and the other clinging to a sturdy walking stick Maura had yanked down for him from the limb of a nearby beech. He had left his pony behind with Cami so she could use it to bring one of the children home.

The frustrating part was that, in a day or two, his ankle would be perfectly fine. But right now he'd only be in the way if he tried to ride along with the band and take part in the general assault on the plantation. There was certainly no way for him to wield a sword effectively when he could barely make it home by putting one foot in front of the other.

Despite the other hobbits' assurances that he had already done his share by going out on his own to face Ferny, Frodo felt deeply disappointed. He limped wearily inside the Inn up the corridor to the room which he and Bilbo shared. Standing in the hallway just outside the door, Frodo could make out the muffled sound of voices sparring angrily back and forth. Bilbo was ranting and fuming, his words underscored with tones of worry; the other voice in the room sounded vaguely familiar to Frodo, but it was hard to place.

The door was unlatched. Frodo turned the handle and walked inside, immediately going over to Bilbo to give him an affectionate hug. The frail figure stood up and glared. "I don't know whether to cry with tears of joy or give you a piece of my mind. Whatever got into your head? Everyone downstairs was talking about how you were going off by yourself to fight Ferny. I didn't know if you were alive or dead."

Frodo smiled gently and draped his arm over Bilbo's stooping shoulders, "Don't believe everything you hear. I didn't quite go off on my own. Halfred led his deputies and a band of volunteers over to the spot where Ferny had said I should go. They hid in the bushes and tall undergrowth, springing out at the last minute to attack. Mithadan was there, and he made sure I was safe."

"But you've hurt yourself," Bilbo countered pointing down at his nephew's leg.

"It's nothing. Just a sprain. Mithadan tossed me behind him for protection and I ended up falling down and twisted my ankle. Not a very noble story I'm afraid. I wanted to go on to help rescue the children but..." Frodo sighed and let the last idea go unfinished.

"Well, in any case you're safe." Bilbo responded with gruff affection. "And with no thanks to you, I might add." The old man turned to the corner and frowned at a willowy shaded figure who'd stood warily at the side of the room until this juncture.

Lorien sauntered up to Bilbo, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. "You see. I told you. Everything's fine. There was no need to do anything."

Bilbo's face turned red; his veins bulged out at the side of his temple. He looked as though he might start shouting again when Frodo intervened, walking directly up to Lorien and speaking, "Whatever happened to me is not that important. But there are a band of hobbits out there risking their lives to try and save Pio's twins and the other children."

"Bilbo's right. You must do something. You brought us here. None of this might have happened except Ferny was still angry over what took place at the Scouring. It was my presence that stirred all this up. Bilbo and I trusted you. You owe something to those children and to those going to help them."

Lorien narrowed his eyes and peered back at the small hobbit, "Just what do you expect me to do? Get on a horse and fly over to Bree."

"I don't know. You can answer that better than I can. But you must do something."

Lorien drummed looked out the window and drummed his fingers against the window ledge. "I don't know. I'll think about it."

With that the tall figure walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway in the direction of the back courtyard.

********************************************

It was still dark when Stoatie blearily opened his eyes and stared around the room. For a moment nothing came into focus; he could not remember where he was or why he had come here. Then it hit him. He was still closeted in Ferny's private lair where he'd been sampling his personal stock of liquor, enjoying the soft cushions of the easy chair, and chowing down on a generous haunch of venison.

Almost instinctively, Stoatie lurched to his feet and peered suspiciously around the room. If Boss had seen him lolling about here, he would not have been pleased. As much as Ferny relied on Old Stoatie, there was still a definite boundary between them. Boss was Boss, and Stoatie was Stoatie, and never the two should meet.

Stoatie stumbled out the door mumbling a question to one of the guards who was supposed to be on duty. "Where's Ferny? He should be here."

"Dunno'," muttered the man, shrugging his shoulders and reaching deep inside his pocket to retrieve a generous flask of ale which he promptly began to chug down.

This time Stoatie raised his voice, "What time is it? How long have I been here?"

The fellow groggily eyed him, then looked away and started to ramble off. Stoatie's response was immediate and angry. "I was talkin' to yuh. I want an answer."

This time he got an answer. "Dunno'. Boss ain't here. It's been a couple o'hours since you came in with the brats."

'A couple o' hours?' How could that be? Ferny was supposed to get into camp an hour after he and Shifty arrived. The Boss must have met a mishap on the road. Maybe his horse had thrown a shoe, and they'd stopped for help. Or maybe he'd gotten a chance to pull off another heist.

Still, Ferny's stomach felt queasy as he stared over at the main entrance, straining his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of Boss. But he could see absolutely nothing in the darkness except fading shadows and silence. For one uneasy moment, he remembered that Ferny had been riding home with Mithadan. Then he told himself to calm down. Nothing had gone wrong; he just had to be a little more patient. He yawned, stretched and tried to ignore the dull ache that had begun at the base of his neck and was now spreading and reverberating throughout his entire head. He decided to go to bed to catch a few minutes of sleep and see if his head stopped hurting so much. He would tell the men to wake him as soon as Ferny came riding through the gate.

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-15-2003, 01:48 PM

She had hidden Falmar well west of the southern edge of the plantation in a small depression behind a shrubby rise. Untethered, the horse awaited her call, her tail swishing against the small swarms of midges that pestered her when the breeze died down. Pio crept, under cover of darkness, nearer the edge of Ferny’s place, and now lay flattened against the ground in the sparse shadow of some low lying scrub near the fence.

There were no guards at present patrolling this section of the plantation perimeter, as far as she could see or hear. To the east of the cottage and slightly north was another small cottage. The windows to it were open, and she could see numerous shadows pass by between the lamp within and the window itself. Some of the men within were sleeping – the heavy, deep sleep that comes with a long day’s hard work. But most were up and about . . . and drinking, their muddled thoughts betraying their drunken state.

Pio worked her way along the wooden fence. She was thankful that Ferny had been so confident that no one would venture near his enterprise that he had put up the simple, wooden split-rail and post type of fence. It afforded her an unobstructed view of the yard. Nearing a view of the front end of the cottage, she froze as she heard the sound of heavy steps on the wooden porch and voices.

‘We’re havin’ a little get together up in Shifty’s cabin. Got us a keg of ale in from the Pony. You want to join us?’ The lewdness of the drunken man’s intentions came through clearly, and Pio stifled a laugh as he went tumbling over the porch railing and sprawled on the ground.

‘Out of here, you scurvy dog!’ came the strident tones of Bird, a wooden chair held out before her, its legs pointing menacingly at the downed man. ‘I oughta break this over your thick head. Who’s gonna watch the brats if I leave? The little Shire rats would be gone in the blink of an eye if I left ‘em alone for a minute.’ She glared down at the drunk. ‘Then who wants to tell Stoatie and Ferny their precious cargo has flown the coop?’ Bird heaved the chair down at the man as he scrambled to his feet, and watched as he staggered off, muttering a few remarks on her lineage.

Pio kept her head down as several more men wandered through the yard, one on his way to the sheds behind the cottage, the other drawing near to the fence to relieve himself. When the two had finished their business Pio raised her head again and pushed herself under the rails of the fence, careful to avoid the stinking puddle to her left. Approaching the side of the cottage nearest her, she tried the windows, but they were nailed shut from the outside.

Nothing to do but go in through the front door.

She crept up to the door and knocked softly on it, then retreated off to the side of the porch. The door to the cottage flew open, and a small shaft of light from the lantern within knifed into the darkness. Bird growled out a warning for whoever it was to get out and quit bothering her. ‘I’ll give you a taste of my stick if you come any closer,’ she hissed, slapping the stout stick on the porch railing.

‘Try it and I’ll cut it from your fingers before you can bring it down,’ came the low, familiar voice back to her. Startled, Bird lowered the stick, her eyes searching the shadows. ‘Pio?’ Bird shut the door to block the light, throwing the porch into darkness. ‘Yes, I am over here, at the end of the porch,’ came the whispered reply.

Pio climbed quickly up and over the railing, crouching down in the corner and pulling Bird down beside her. She quickly went over the plans to rescue all the children, assuring Bird that Mithadan and some Shire folk would be here soon, bringing mounts enough to get the children away. ‘You and Gilly must be ready to bring them out quickly once I come for you.’ She drew a knife from her boot. ‘Here, give this to her. Tell her to be ready to use it.’

The twins began to fuss as she spoke with Bird. And on impulse, she rose to go to them. But Bird grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back down. ‘Someone is coming,’ she hissed at her friend. ‘Stay down, I’ll see to it,’ said Bird. Pio drew her blade and held it in readiness.

‘Ya wouln’t come to the party, so we’ve brought it to you!’ The drunken voice of a different man spoke out from the yard, his words slurring. ‘Lock those brats in and come out here and join us for a round.’ She could see him wave an overflowing tankard in Bird’s direction. ‘And don’t tell me you need to watch them – they’ll be alright for a while . . . and besides, they’ll all be dead once Ferny gets back. We won’t need ‘em no more.’ A number of other soused agreements were thrown out by the others who had come, following the keg.

‘Let me just lock the door, then, Shifty’ replied Bird, seeming to acquiesce to the party mood. ‘ And let’s move the celebration further from the cottage. I don’t want the wailing from the little mongrels to spoil my drinking.’

Pio relaxed, sheathing her sword, and slipped off the side of the porch as they left. Glancing regretfully at the locked cottage, she made her way back to where she had hidden Falmar. Her fingers twitched at the thin loop of cord she had coiled at her belt. She had marked well the face and voice of the man who said the children would be dead. Shifty, Bird had called him . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She shook her dark thoughts from her, and reached out for the twins. Gilly must have calmed them – they slept fitfully, half on the edge of hunger and exhaustion. She fought the urge to steal only them away, leaving the others behind.

I am here, little ones.

She whispered softly to them, nudging their dreams to a pleasant place, rocking them gently in her thoughts . . .

[ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 03:08 AM

Mithadan chafed at the pace the group set. The ponies ridden by the Hobbits were stretched to their limit, and he knew it would be of no avail for him to urge their riders to push them more. It would be tomorrow night before they reached Bree. And once they were near it, it would be several more hours before they would come to Ferny’s plantation.

‘Another day’, he thought grimly, ‘that my children will be in the hands of Stoatie and his crew.’

Piosenniel! There are a large number of Hobbits who ride with me. It will be tomorrow night before we reach you.

Difficult as it was for him to concentrate as they rode along, still he hoped she had received his message, and the list of names of those who were heading east with him.

Surprise played on the features of his face as he heard her reply come back to him, strong and swift. Cami, who rode to one side of him, saw his eyes widen in the moonlight and heard his sudden sharp intake of breath.

‘Are you alright, Mithadan?’ she asked, concern creasing her brow. ‘Do we need to stop? Are you hurt?’

He waved his hand at her, indicating he needed nothing. He turned his attention away from her and listened closely to Pio as she spoke to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It will be best that you are here at night. Days are very busy – many men roaming the plantation, working at their appointed duties. At night, only a few guards wander about the northern fence, and they are lackadaisical at best.

Here by the cottage where the children are, I have only seen two guards, and they came and looked about in a haphazard manner, and did not return. I think they feel Bird can look after them, and leave them mostly to her. Though this end of the yard, which is far from Stoatie’s cottage, is often milling with men late into the night who are at one stage of inebriation or another

When you come – send three to me with their ponies and one extra for Gilly – that will be enough to get them all out. I am going now to speak again with Bird. And this time I will go in and see the babies.

Take care, beloved. We await you.’

[ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 03:11 AM

It was very late at night before Bird staggered back to the cottage. In a few hours it would be dawn, and most of the men in Shifty’s cabin were dead drunk and collapsed on the floor, the sounds of their loud snores and grunts punctuating the stillness of the night.

Bird reached the door and fumbled at the lock with her key. Pio, had slid beneath the fence as she saw her friend returning, and gone silently up the stairs behind her, listening to the string of invective Bird hurled at the recalcitrant key.

‘Here. Let me try it for you.’ The low voice at her shoulder and the feel of the hand as it slid over hers to steady her grip made Bird gasp and twist away from the perceived assailant. Pio could see the thoughts forming in Bird’s ale-fuddled mind, and she grabbed Bird’s arm. ‘Open your eyes and look at me,’ she hissed, moving in closer. ‘Bank the fires, Bird. It won’t do to have the dragon spring out now.’

A certain level of clarity invaded the red rimmed eyes, and she growled back at Pio. ‘Two more seconds, Elf, and you woulda been toast!’ She cuffed Pio clumsily on her ear. ‘When will you ever learn? Don’t scare the shapechanger!’

By now Pio had the door unlocked, and opening it wide, dragged Bird into the dimly lit front room and locked it securely. ‘Sit down and collect your thoughts as best you can. I have heard from Mithadan, not long ago. Bird sat down on one of the straight back chairs at the table, and held her head in her hands. ‘And if you have anything for that headache you will have later today, best you be taking some soon.’

Pio outlined when Mithadan would arrive, and with how many Hobbits. She explained what he and the greater body of the group would do at the north entrance, and how he would send several Hobbits with ponies to help in the escape of the children. Bird’s face turned a pale shade of green at the mention of the little mounts and she looked beseechingly up at Pio.

‘Tell me you aren’t expecting me to ride one of those overgrown dogs back to the Shire! My gut is already lurching at the thought of it.’ Pio laughed at the expected remarks, saying she had hoped that Bird would become the jackdaw and spy out any who might pursue them. ‘Your plan is sounding better by the minute, Elf.’

Bird rose from her seat and searched the cupboards for a packet of headache powder, and finding one poured herself a mug of cool water to mix it in. Down it went in a gulp, followed by a mighty belch. Pio laughed quietly and shook her head, as the sour odor of old ale mixed with the sharp smell of willow bark powder perfumed the space between them.

The sound of the door to the back room opening, stopped her laughter cold, and she slid into the shadows at the corner of the room. Her blade, slipping easily from its sheath, was held lightly in her hand.

It was Gilly, she had heard the voices and come to see who it was. ‘I thought I heard a familiar laugh, Miz Bird,’ she said, peeking round the room. ‘But it must just have been a dream.’ Her eyes stopped on the dim figure in the shadows and she cried out in fear.

Pio stepped into the dim light, sheathing her sword, and motioned the frightened girl to her. ‘Not a dream, Gilly. I have just come to tell Bird that Mithadan and a great many of our friends from the Shire will be here tomorrow night, about this time. And that I will come to take all of you to safety.’ Gilly collapsed against Pio, sobbing silently. ‘I knew you would come.’

She drew back and sniffled a bit, wiping her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her dress. ‘You have been very brave, Gilly,’ said Pio, taking the Hobbit's hands in hers. ‘I got the information I needed from the Innkeeper at the Perch thanks to you.’ She plucked a folded square of cloth from her waistband, and held it out to Gilly. ‘And this, too, that you left for me.’

Pio tucked the square safely away again, and sitting down on one of the chairs drew the lass in closer. ‘I know, too, what a comfort you have been to the babies. They were depending on you, and you came through for them. I will always be in your debt for doing that for us.’

‘If you’ll just get us out of here, Mistress Piosenniel, I’ll consider the debt repaid a hundred times over.’ She straightened up her posture and gave another swipe at her eyes. ‘Sit right there. Let me get them for you.’

Gilly came back out, a sleepy eyed Fosco trailing along with her, one hand gripping firmly Gilly’s skirt. ‘Pio,’ he said, rubbing the sleepy dust from his eyes. ‘Has my mommy and daddy come to take me home?’ He looked about the room hopefully, his thin little fade falling when he did not see them. His lower lip quivered and a tear threatened at the corner of his eye.

Pio gathered him into her arms and spoke softly to him. ‘Can you be brave for one more day, Fosco?’ he nodded his head hesitantly at her question. ‘Your daddy is depending on you, Fosco. He is riding here with Mithadan and will be here tomorrow night, about this time. Can you be brave until then?’ The little Hobbit hugged her fiercely and nodded his head vigorously. ‘And be as quiet as a mouse about it. Say nothing about me or what I have told you until we come for you. The bad men must not know about us.’ Fosco’s solemn little face broke into a smile at the thought of having one over on the bad men, and he hugged her once again.

The babies, held in Gilly’s arms, stirred at the sound of their mother’s voice and the scent of her nearness. They cried out and she reached out for them, drawing them in close to her. Their sweet baby smell came through the layer of grime that covered them and their raggedy blanket, and she could hardly breathe for the intensity of feeling their presence brought her. She nursed them, letting them take their greedy fill of her, until drowsy with milk, they slipped into satisfied dreams. She looked at each little face for a long time, and kissed the corners of their lips. ‘Take them from me, Gilly,’ she said handing them one by one back to the Hobbit. ‘Before I cannot let them go.’

She stood, straightening her tunic about her, and drew on the cape she had thrown over the back of the chair. ‘Tomorrow,’ she said to them. ‘Until then, know I will be near, watching out for you as I can. She kissed the twins on the cheek and ruffled Fosco’s hair.

Bird blew out the lamp and opened the door, checking for any prying eyes. There were none, and she motioned Pio out the door, watching as she climbed over the side of the porch railing and disappeared into the darkness.

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:41 PM

The moon was already riding the western horizon when Pio made her way to the small rise west of Bird’s cottage. A long day was still ahead of her before the pieces would be in place to wipe the blight that was Ferny’s place from the countryside. Since she had not the power to make time run any faster, she opted to make good use of the time that lay before her.

In less than an hour, the sun had declared her presence and the compound to the east began to stir, readying itself for the new day. Men streamed from the small dormitories clustered in the northern section of the plantation, making their way to what she assumed was a dining hall. Smoke issued from two chimneys set in its southern end, and the smells of eggs and porridge and fried meats drifted out to her on the cool morning air. From that building the men went to the small sheds gathered in clusters about the large fields and took out the implements needed for the day.

Much of the area, she noted, was devoted to growing a broad-leaved crop. Pipe weed, she guessed, though she had never seen it except in its dried form. It seemed a labor intensive planting, even in the established fields. Men hoed and weeded about the plants, and there were numerous hands whose only job it seemed was to inspect each leaf and pick off any pests found on it. Pio wondered what promises Ferny had made to these men, that they would spend their day engaged in such mindless labor.

What most engaged her thought as she watched them stream out to the fields like so many ants, was the number of them that Ferny employed. By her count there were at least fifty men. Fifty! Mithadan and the Hobbits from the Shire numbered twenty four. Twenty six with her and Bird counted in. They were out numbered two to one, and from what she could see, there was no opportunity for her to do some discrete hunting and thin out the ruffian population. If Mithadan and some of the Hobbits were to face the bulk of the men at the north end, the outcome appeared grim.

She plucked a piece of tall grass from a nearby clump and sat chewing on the stalk. How could she swing the advantage their way . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun was warm on her face, and something was nudging her in the back when she woke from her little nap. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and patted Falmar between the ears as the horse nudged her once again. She was tired; she couldn’t remember when she had slept last. And she had woken just now from the strangest dream . . . one of those disconcerting fantasies whose various parts shimmer and fade if looked at too hard . . . leaving one feeling just a little on edge, on an uneven keel.

Pio smiled as she stretched to get the kinks from limbs that had lain too long in one position on the uneven ground. An idea had come to her, and with any luck it would even out the odds a bit. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, settling herself into a comfortable seated position on the ground. She had spoken to him before in this manner, and now she reached out to find the familiar pattern of thought that was his.

Lorien!

She could almost feel his eyes flash and his head snap up in irritation.

Piosenniel.

Not a question, only a simple acknowledgement that she had spoken, and in doing so, disturbed him. She put away the sudden consideration that perhaps being disturbed was the main function of the Vala. No need to antagonize him further.

I have found a way you can assist us in getting the children away from here safely. she continued.

Indeed! And that would be . . .?

The desire to pursue the reason why he did not know already what she wanted – wasn’t he a Vala, after all – was also put from her mind, at least for now, as she went on the detail the particulars of their plan for the rescue.

Tonight, as the men lay sleeping, I need you give them frightening and confusing dreams. Weaken their spirits, sap their strength, so that there is not much fight left in them when Mithadan and the Hobbits attack at the north gate. Even the odds a bit, so to speak.

She could almost sense him sigh as he marshaled his arguments against this action. Pio cut him off before he could tell them to her.

We need you to do this, Lorien. We are depending on you to help us in the way that you can. You are the Master of Dreams; this is a task you can do.

She heard the "but" form in his mind.

If you do not step in where you are needed, your entire purpose for being here will be for naught. Cami and Maura, Rose and Gamba, Zira and Ban will not be returning to the ages from which they came . . . They will be dead, Lorien. Struck down by Ferny’s men. And whatever thread of time their presence knit together, it will unravel . . . and as it unravels, it will take others with it. Surely that is not an end you wished to accomplish on your journey here?

She heard only silence from his end . . .

She shrugged her shoulders, and turned her gaze back to where the men now were working in the fields, calculating just how many she could take out if the need arose . . . her thoughts drifted back to her request, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he was welcome to prove her the fool for not ‘believing’ more strongly in the integrity of the Valar – as long as he would see this one thing done . . .

Amid the buzz of the clouds of little midges that swarmed about her head, determined to taste Elven blood for their afternoon meal, Pio at first did not hear the quiet words that played about the edges of her consciousness. Amused, the voice grew louder.

I said, a simple thank you will suffice, Piosenniel . . .

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:41 PM

Child's post

Stoatie reluctantly opened one eye and then the other, yanked on his boots, and slipped a tattered shirt over his head while trying to ignore the pounding at the base of his neck and the queasy sensation in his stomach. Why hadn't the men awakened him when Boss returned? He'd been asleep for several hours.

He plodded over to the doorway and kicked it ajar barking out his displeasure. What he saw surprised him. The afternoon sun shone bright above his head, spilling its rays over onto the hard-baked earth and sending up sizzling waves of heat. Boss had apparently not arrived yet, even though several hours had passed. Used to the dreary recesses of the cabin with its windows securely boarded over, Stoatie instinctively blinked narrowing his eyes to shut out the blinding rays of light. Then he recovered and strode outside.

"Shifty!" he yelled beckoning one of the guards across the road. "Where's Boss? Still nothin'?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the thug responded, "Nuthin'. Not a sign of 'em anywhere."

Stoatie growled, "And what are the men doin'?"

"The usual. Drinkin', swearin', and gatherin' up weed in the fields. Sometimes stopin' to smoke it." Shifty's face surfaced with a wide grin.

Stoatie hated a situation like this. He was good at sneaking and killing but organizing men was far beyond his natural skills. Still, he had a feeling if Ferny had been here, he'd be keeping a closer eye on things.

He cursed his bad luck and mentally kicked himself, then turned around to threaten Shifty. "Git goin' now! You and me is gonna make the rounds of camp to make sure things are right. They'll be dickens to pay if Boss comes back and finds everyone smokin' weed and layin' down drunk!"

A little voice nagged insistently at the back of Stoatie's head. What would happen if Boss didn't come back? Maybe he'd gotten what he wanted and couldn't be bothered with Stoatie. Maybe Ferny had hightailed it with the money and jewels and left Stoatie with nothing at all.

Stoat tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword which he'd belted around his waist. Those brats would pay, he vowed. Every one of them. Those brats would pay for his misfortune. If Ferny didn't return by tomorrow morning, it was likely he was never coming back. Taking care of a plantation filled with pipeweed was not something that interested Stoatie in the slightest even if there were profits involved. In that case, if Boss had deserted him without his promised reward, he'd at least have a little fun with those caterwauling brats before he rode out for good and hauled along that feisty Bird.

He said nothing about this to Shifty, merely ordering him to bring the horses round so they could make the rounds of the fields and various senttry points. Then the two men mounted up and went out to have a look at how things were going with the rest of the gang.

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:45 PM

It took longer than anticipated to reach the outskirts of Bree-land. One of the ponies had thrown a shoe, and they had to stop at a small holding on the eastern edges of Buckland to find a replacement for the limping mount. By the time they reached the western border of Bree-land, it was late afternoon.

Mithadan turned them south, just where the Great East Road bordered the southern edge of Bree. And it was five hours later, or just on the cusp of darkness, when he halted the group and pointed out to them the sprawling lands of Ferny’s place to the south. ‘There’s the gate, there,’ he said, his pointing finger indicating the northern fence line and the entry way near its eastern end. ‘That’s where we’ll enter and draw their attention away from the cottage down there near the southwestern corner of the fence. That’s where Bird is and where Gilly and the children are being held.’

He led them to a little depression just north of Ferny’s place, where they could rest for a while, waiting for the night to grow darker, and the men to settle down for sleep. While the Hobbits dozed, Maura came to sit beside him. He asked Mithadan what some of the other buildings were, and Mithadan pointed out the dormitories, the armory, and Stoatie’s cottage.

‘Perhaps we should think about torching some of those buildings while we’re there,’ offered Maura. ‘Nothing like a little smoke and flames to cause confusion.’ Mithadan nodded his head in agreement, then pointed out once again the cottage where Stoatie lived. ‘We can burn them all to the ground, as far as I’m concerned. But that cottage there, and the weasel who lives in it . . . that one is my concern.’

They sat in silence for the short time it took the sky to turn a deep, inky black. Mithadan looked to the southwest, hoping to see a familiar figure there along the boundaries.

Piosenniel! We are here. Soon I will send some riders down to you and you can begin to take the children away. By the time they arrive, we will have come in by the north gate and our attack will have begun. Take the children west to the Greenway, near the South Downs. We will meet you there when we are done.

He felt her lips kiss his brow gently. We will await you there.

Then there was only the quiet of the night . . . and one by one, the torches in the outdoor sconces that lit each doorway in the compound were put out, as the men made ready for sleep and the restful pleasures of their dreams . . .

[ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:46 PM

Lorien

He sat with a bemused look on his face and a large mug of mulled wine in his hand. The little window of his room faced west, and he followed the course of Arien as she pushed the vessel of the sun below the rim of the world, leaving darkness in her wake. He took a large swig of his drink and rolled the flavorsome liquid about his mouth.

There were not many who actually called upon him for his services. Many cursed him, to be sure, when their dreams were filled with dark and dreadful things, but the ones whose dreams were filled with delight soon forgot them, and no words of thanks fell from their lips for the one who had sent them.

Lorien raised the mug to his lips, but they met no enticing brew. ‘Who drank it?’ he wondered, a soft hiccup punctuating the thought. His free hand reached out for the pitcher he had thought to bring up stairs with him and he poured himself another round of pleasure. ‘To Arda,’ he said, raising the mug to the darkening scene that spread out below his window.

‘And here’s to Piosenniel,’ he said to a passing cloud as it drifted across the yellow face of the moon. Swallowing her stiff-necked Elven pride, she had thanked him in advance – for services not yet rendered. That was worth two drinks in his book!

‘Well,’ he remarked to no one in particular, ‘best get on with the task she’s set me.’ A last mug of wine found its way down the Vala’s throat, as he tipped back in his chair and propped his long legs on the windowsill. His mind, a bit muzzy with the delights of the vine reached out east, seeking the men Pio had spoken of.

The gibbous moon shone in the window, as he wove a riot of dreams and phantasms for them. Its cold light cast his sharp features into a wolfish relief, and he smiled as the dreamers tossed and turned in their little beds without respite.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:47 PM

Child's post

Stoatie watched with mounting trepidation as the familiar images flickered in and out, first hazy and then distinct until they finally solidified before his eyes. This is a dream, he reminded himself. Only a dream. But he had a strange premonition that this dream was far more significant and concrete than any he'd ever had.

His stomach lurched as he glimpsed the features of the land and road spilling out in front of him. He tried to will his body to stand still to stop what was happening, but his efforts were powerless before the inexorable chain of events that was about to play out again.

Step by step, his feet carried him down the path that had been so much a part of his childhood. He could see the threadbare hut at the end of the track with its broken windows and rotting boards and a crooked door that was always hanging half off its hinges. There was an awful ruckus going on inside. Crashing and banging and the sounds of a woman desperately pleading for mercy.

Stoatie ran down the dirt pathway, fingering the hilt of the old stiletto dagger he'd found that he always kept hidden in a leather pouch deep within his pocket to shield his body from the evil monster who lurked inside the hut. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. It seemed like an hour or two before he actually reached the door.

The bottom hinge cracked as the door pushed outward crashing down under the weight of the man who fell against it. Tall and bulky, his face a mask of rage, he ran out onto the grass still clenching an axe in his right hand, the edge of its blade tinted with red. The man wasn't looking where he was going and came barrelling into the boy, sending both of them sprawling onto the ground.

The two stood up and faced each other. "Git outta here, Richard. There's nothin' to go back to. Scram!" The man lifted the axe over the boy's small head and hesitated as if he wasn't sure whether or not he should bring it down and strike. Then, letting the wooden handle slip from his grasp, he thundered down the path and cut across the field vanishing into a thick wooded grove.

There were no sounds at all coming from the hut as Stoatie ran in through the door and flung himself at the foot of his mother's bed. The woman's body lay twisted and broken amid the bedclothes in a grotesque mockery of the human form; blood streamed down from a great gash at the base of her neck. Stoatie tried hard but could not stop the tears that cascaded down his dirty cheeks.

He leaned over and kissed her goodbye. His father had done it just like he'd warned the two of them a hundred times before. The boy berated himself. Why hadn't he been here with his dagger to protect against the beast? If he'd only had his weapon, this would never have happened to the one person whom he cared for.

Stoatie ran outside unable to stand the hut and its secrets any longer. He ran and ran until he threw his body onto a tiny hillock that faced towards the outside world. Rage and fear welled up in his heart. He pulled out the stiletto and stared at it. He was very conscious of what he was doing. He wished he had a cat or a rat, but there was no time to go looking for one of those. He crumpled his jacket up into a ball and drew his fist upwards with the blade still clenched in his hand. Then he brought it down. Once, twice, a whole sequence of sharp thrusts. Stoatie skewered his own jacket again and again as though it was a living thing he was intent on murdering. When he finally finished, he curled himself up into a hunched ball, his tears still coming in jagged gasps. Finally falling into a deeply troubled sleep, the young boy vowed that he would never stop skewering and killing until he managed to find his father and even the score.

[ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-17-2003, 06:48 PM

When it was completely dark, and the lights in the cottages scattered about the plantation had dimmed and then gone out altogether, Pio crept closer to the fence line and waited. She reached out to listen to the men as they drifted off to sleep. Her mind reeled back from the contact, shielding itself from the writhing dreams that gripped them. Lorien had come through, and she was glad of it.

Mithadan reached out to tell her they had arrived, and were now going in. Cami, Merimac, Frodo-lad, Ruby and Buttercup had been sent with an extra horse for Gilly and should reach her soon. By the time they reach you, our attack should be well under way. And most of the men will have come north to fight against us. It should be safe for you to bring the children out and make your escape easily under cover of darkness.

Pio waited, her ears and eyes opened wide for any sight of her reinforcements.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mithadan pulled the key he had taken from Ferny and slid it into the big iron lock on the gate. The tumblers creaked as he turned the shank and engaged the bit. He stopped and listened carefully for any signs of trouble before opening the gate wide. Halfred and his two deputies were the first through the gate, followed by Mithadan and Maura.

Stoatie had set two guards near the gate for the night, worried when Ferny had not returned home. But they had indulged in the new shipment of ale from the Pony, and they slumped in the chairs they had brought out for themselves, their chins resting on their chests, snoring. Their eyes, beneath their lids, darted furtively from left to right, and they whimpered at times and cried out, raising their arms to cover their faces as if to protect themselves.

Halfred, Milo, and Hugo made short work of the sleeping men, knocking them soundly on the backs of their heads with the stout cudgels they wielded. Truth be told, the Hobbits much preferred to lay low their foe with a good thwacking, rather than run them through with a blade.

Soon all of the Hobbits had poured through the gate, and dividing themselves into the little groups they had decided on earlier in the evening, swarmed through the northern section of the compound – making mischief, causing confusion and panic. Wreaking destruction where they could, killing when they must.

The men were slow to respond – groggy and muddled as they pulled themselves from their cots and went to see who was causing such a ruckus. And many of them believed that this was simply a waking part to their bad dreams and sought a way to escape from any encounter.

Those who did pull themselves together for the fight were met with force. The Boffin Brothers bows were put to good use as their arrows flew with deadly accuracy to their intended targets. Sam and Hob waded in grimly with their thick, blackthorn walking sticks, and soon there were many men hobbling about whose heads and shins bore the lumps and bruises where the sticks had connected.

Maura led five of the local shire lads along one side of the compound, his sword driving back any who dared come against him. The five had pulled the oil-soaked-rag wrapped pitchy torches from their holders, and were now using the flints they’d brought to relight them. The sound of breaking glass and the panicked yelps of those who tried to stay hidden in the dormitories rang out in the darkness as the torches set bedding, and curtains, and wooden furniture ablaze. Rose and her Greenwood contingent led the assault on the opposite side of the yard, their blades and bows laying low many of those who crossed their path.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was aware that the others had fanned out as they had planned. But the greater part of Mithadan’s attention was focused elsewhere. Blade held in the ready position, he made his way carefully round to the east side of the plantation, to Stoatie’s cottage. Mistaking him for one of them, the harried men nodded to him as he approached and let him pass. Several he stopped, asking for the whereabouts of Stoatie. ‘Haven’t seen him,’ they all told him.

The ruffians seemed in a state of panic. Something other than the surprise of the armed Hobbits must have put the wind up them. Many were unarmed, their eyes wild. And many had no heart it seemed to join the fight. Escape drove them instead.

‘Just like that cowardly weasel to desert his ‘comrades’,’ snorted Mithadan, as he pushed his way past the fleeing throng, searching . . .

[ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-17-2003, 09:33 PM

theWhiteLady's post

After Mithadan opened the gate, Rose had led Gamba, Ban and Zira around Ferny’s house towards the long dormitories. Running low, Rose focused first on the armory, placed right where Mithadan had described it to be. She worked quickly, grabbing a brand that was still smoldering from its holder and relit it with a piece of flint pulled from one of the small pockets of her dress. Several more torches were lit from the one and each thrown in the narrow windows of the armory; surveying her work, Rose noted with a small smile the warm glow of the fire as it caught on the wooden spears and other weapons. A series of muffled yells from inside the dormitories testified that the other hobbits had also met with success.

Gamba, Ban, and Zira were using their short swords like clubs; most of the men were unarmed and their well placed blows discouraged any serious attacks. The hobbits’ most imminent problem now seemed to be keeping the men from fleeing towards the children’s cottage. Rose glanced to the right, straining to see if the escape had yet been made, but her eyes landed instead upon a long, low building almost hidden beyond. A wicked grin lit her features and, knocking a bleary-eyed man - who looked rather as though he wasn’t sure if this wasn’t all just another nightmare - out of her way, Rose ran towards the building grabbing another torch on her way.

The building was, of course, used to dry pipeweed after cutting and it was stuffed full of long leaves hanging like curtains from the ceiling. Rose lit her torch and hurled it with all her might into the densest section; the pipeweed, as dry and fragile as tinder, burst into flame, and the little hobbit was forced to scramble away as flames stretched orange and red fingers to the bright stars. Rose returned to the dormitories and was delighted to see that Ferny’s men, seeing the bonfire shoot up from the southern side of the farm, assumed that end was also under attack and were now fleeing away from the fields. It was several days later before Rose learned her bonfire had spread to the fields and ended up destroying them and their crop completely.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

Child of the 7th Age · 07-17-2003, 09:35 PM

Cami clicked her heels into the side of her mount and noiselessly urged the animal forward skirting along the open range that bordered the southwest side of the plantation. She would have preferred to have more cover than this but bushes and trees were few. The band of five was clearly silhouetted against the inky horizon. Fortunately for them, as they pulled their ponies up to the fence, Ferny's men were nowhere to be seen.

Merimac glanced back at the small herd of ponies that had been quietly following behind them, and whispered in Cami's direction, "Do we have enough? Are there enough for all the children, and Gilly?"

"I think so," she murmurred trying to keep count in her head. "Anyways, the youngest can always double up if we have to, and I'm sure Pio will be holding the babies. Let's just get in there and get them out."

Merimac nodded grimly. It was obvious that he was thinking about his son who'd been missing for so many weeks.

Cami nervously eyed the other members of her party. Merimac at least had experience as a member of the Hobbiton watch, but the others were rank newcomers. Ruby and Buttercup and Frodo-lad had never set foot outside the Shire and had certainly not wielded a weapon before. Not that she was in much better shape than they were. She looked down at the sword that hung awkwardly about her waist and fervently pleaded to all the powers in the heavens that she would not have to use it. Climbing up onto the bottom railing, Cami cupped her hands to her mouth and hooted softly into the night, hoping to attract Pio's attention.

Then she turned round to Frodo-lad and Buttercup. "You two stay here. The three of us will go and make sure everything's all right. When the children come up to the fence, get them mounted up as quickly as you can and pull back over there." Cami indicated a small copse of trees that was a few paces distant. "Then wait for Pio. She'll know where to go."

Turning to give a final hug to Frodo-lad, Cami sternly instructed him to listen to Buttercup and do whatever the older hobbit said; then she walked over to the fence with Ruby and Merimac and slid her body adroitly between the rails. A moment later, all three of the hobbits had slipped through to the other side. In the distance they could see Piosenniel standing and motioning to them to come quickly. Cami and Merrimac sprinted down the trail in the direction of the old shed with Ruby doggedly following a few steps behind.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-18-2003, 02:08 AM

Pio could smell the acrid smoke on the air, and see the flames of the burning wooden structures reach up high into the night sky. The small number of men who bunked in the southern area of the plantation had roused from their beds and grabbing their weapons made their way to the area of the main dormitories. She watched the guards halt in their haphazard patrol of the southern boundaries, their attention caught by the tumult of noise and flames. Then, they, too, headed north, moving quickly.

One of the figures who had come out of the cottage to the east of Bird’s did not go north to aid his fellows. Blade drawn, he picked his way toward the children’s cabin and up onto the porch. She watched as he rattled the door handle, unable to gain entrance, as Bird had locked it from the inside. He pounded on the door with the pommel of his sword, his voice loud and angry, demanding entrance, and was met only with silence from within. She could see him shake his upraised blade, and then leap over the railing at the edge of the porch seeking, as he landed, the window on the side of the cottage. Two blows to the glass and it shattered. And soon he was pulling his lanky body up to the window sill in an effort to enter.

He did not get the chance to do so.

She had come up behind him at a dead run. Holding her sword in a two handed grip, she delivered two hard cuts to the tendons just above his heels. The sharpness of her blade and the force of her swing drove the blade through the leather of his boots, severing the thick chords. He fell with a loud cry, and found he could no longer stand upright. He lay sprawled on the ground, blood welling into his boots. Above him in the dark, he could hear her speaking.

‘You threatened my children. Put them in danger. Hurt them.’

He whimpered saying it was not his fault, that Ferny had made him do it. She put the tip of her blade to his throat and silenced him with the sharp pressure of it.

‘I care not for your excuses.’

His eyes flew wide and he threw up his hands to try to push it from him. The blade slipped deeper. Sharp at first, the sensation dulled as the blood pumped from his dying form. His hands fell useless at his side.

Pio stepped over him, wiping the blood as she went, on the hem of her tunic.

'Bird!' she called out loudly. 'Gilly! Open up! We have come for you.'

From the corner of her eye she could see Cami and the others approach the fence with their ponies, and she motioned them to come quickly . . .

[ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-18-2003, 02:09 AM

There were scuffling noises from inside the cottage of people moving about, near the door. Pio could hear the sounds of something heavy being pushed away from the door. Bird’s voice voice, muffled by the thick oak door, could be heard directing Gilly. ‘Put your shoulder to it, girl. It’s Pio out there.’ The scraping noises ceased and there came the sounds of a key being turned in the lock. Then the door was thrown open and Bird, her face drawn and grim, grabbed the Elf pulling her in to the front room.

‘Someone is trying to break in,’ said Bird hurriedly, pointing to the back room on the west side of the building. She and Gilly had pulled the children from it and barricaded the door with a chair jammed under the handle. Gilly gripped a hefty piece of firewood and stood ready to waylay the intruder should he break through their makeshift barrier. ‘He battered on the front door first and when we would not let him in,’ continued the Hobbit, ‘he must have gone round to that window on the west. We heard the sound of glass breaking in there as we bolted the door, but have heard nothing since.’

Pio could see the tired, frantic look on Gilly’s face, and how her arms trembled with fatigue and anger mixed with fear. She crouched down by Gilly and took the club from her, laying it on the floor. ‘He’s dead, Gilly. I have seen to it.’ Gilly collapsed into Pio’s arms as Bird breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe.

Cami and Ruby came running in the door just as Pio wiped the tears from Gilly’s face. ‘Bring the twins to me,’ she directed the girl, then get what you need to be on our way.

Bird crouched down and engulfed Cami in a great, fierce hug as she came through the door, which was returned in kind. The Hobbit stepped back then, the pleasure of seeing her old friend put aside for the moment, and said gently, ‘Bird, get the children gathered and let’s get out of here.’

Clapping three times, their pre-arranged signal, Bird called out to the little ones to come out from their hiding places. From behind the couch crept Tom, from Dwaling, just turned seven, and little Larkspur, his sister, well into her fifth year. Dirty and ragged, their solemn faces took in the scene before them. They glanced up at Bird, who took their little hands in a familiar way and whispered a few words of reassurance to them, then gave them over to the charge of Ruby.

From the rough cupboard that stood against the wall into the other bedroom, came Will, a sturdy eight year old from Budge Ford, crawling out on his hands and knees from the bottom compartment. He pulled himself into a low crouch, ready to run if he got the chance. Bird called his name telling him it was safe now, and to go stand with Ruby and the other two children.

Gilly uncovered the basket which held the twins, buried beneath a mound of tattered blankets and cast off clothes waiting to be mended. The babies, sensing danger, had kept quiet, awaiting the return of their mother. They fussed a little as the light from the lantern on the wall hit their eyes. Pio went quickly to them and gathered them close to her. Using one of the thin blankets, she fashioned a sling and put them both in it. They snuggled in, close against the comforting warmth of her body, and she placed her left hand comfortingly against them.

‘Is that all then?’ she asked, gripping her sword once again in her right hand, ‘Then let’s go!’

‘Wait,’ cried Cami, tugging at her sleeve and pointing to where Merimac sat dejected, his shoulders slumped, on one of the chairs . . .

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-18-2003, 02:09 AM

Nurumaiel's post

Merimac Muddyfoot burst into the hideout, scanning the room quickly. The one he was looking for was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled and more than a little fearful, he went into the adjoining rooms, but still no sign of life. Sitting down, he gathered his wits together, thinking back to days when they had all been home. What type of places had the little rascal hidden then? All types of places, that was the answer. If he became lost, he could be anywhere. There was no specific "type."

"Hallo, Daddy," a small, tired voice behind him said, and he felt a little hand slip into his. "Have you came to take me home now?"

Merimac turned, and a strangled sob burst from him. He pulled his son close to him, the tears streaming down his cheeks, clasping him tightly. Fosco relaxed in his father's strong arms, confident that he would be taken care of now. He knew he was safe now. There was nothing to fear.

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-18-2003, 02:11 AM

‘I told you I wouldn’t ride one of those ponies!’ came the high, twittering voice of the little jackdaw. Bird had been the last one out the door to the porch, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Frodo-lad and Buttercup as they held the ponies on the other side of the fence. In a trice she had shed her human form and taken wing.

‘And I said you did not need to, as I recall.’ replied Pio, stopping to wipe off the indelicate gift that accompanied the arrival of the Bird to the crosspiece of her blade’s hilt. ‘Must you do that?’ she grumbled, as the black and white Bird landed now on her wrist, having been displaced as the Elf wiped the white gobbet from the hand that held the sword.

‘Birds do that,’ sniffed the jackdaw, and it seemed as if her little shoulders shrugged. ‘We are not responsible for our bodily functions!’ she humphed, fluffing her feathers and giving them a satisfied shake.

All but Cami stood open mouthed as Pio exchanged a few words with her feathered companion. Ruby shook her head in disbelief. Cook will never believe this, she thought to herself. The children, of course, were delighted – their little faces lighting up with wonder. They had always felt beneath Bird’s gruff exterior lurked a quite marvelous creature, and now they knew it to be true.

‘Fly ahead, if you will Bird, and check out the passage for us. We are bound for the angle of the Greenway and the South Downs – Andrath.’ Pio raised her arm upward and with a nod to her, the jackdaw took wing, flying west. ‘Quickly now!’ urged Pio, leading the small group across the yard to the waiting ponies.

Cami, holding tight to the hand of little Larkspur, was the last one off the porch, following close behind Merimac with Fosco, and Ruby herding Tom and Will before her. Pio had reached the fence, and climbed through the wide spaced posts, and had just turned round to grab the basket of baby things from Gilly and help her through, when something caught her eye.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The rest of the group fleeing from the cottage had halted. Larkspur, slipping her hand from Cami’s grip, had run pell mell back to the porch. ‘My dolly!’ she cried, her little legs pumping hard as she sprinted for the open door with Cami in her wake. And there, just leaping on to the porch from the other side, knife in hand, was a nasty looking figure, a wild look in his eyes.

‘Where you goin’, you little Shire rat?!’ he yelled at her, grabbing her roughly by the arm and shaking her. She twisted in his grip, screaming for help, and kicked at him, landing a few solid whacks to his shins.

‘It’s Shifty!’ cried Gilly, pulling away from Pio’s grip. She ran toward the group to meet the three little boys Ruby had pushed toward her, pulling them toward the fence . . .

[ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-20-2003, 03:17 AM

Child's post:

Cami's initial response was governed solely by instinct. Horrified to glimpse the small girl struggling in the grip of a maniacal demon with a dagger, she hurled her body in front of Shifty so that the thug would have to leap over her or knock her out of the way in order to make good his escape. With this split second diversion, Ruby and Merimac had an instant to dash over and position themselves at the rear of the porch.

Still reluctant to relinquish his coveted prize, and convinced he had nothing to fear, the rogue crammed the squalling bundle under his left arm and hostilely surveyed the three hobbits who were threatening to cut off his route of escape. Selecting Ruby as his most likely target, he instinctively thrust forward with his dagger, coming within a hair's breadth of the hobbit's shoulder before she adroitly pivotted and doubled back. He came at her a second time with his clenched fists and pummelled her over the edge of the porch.

Cami fumbled frantically at the belt about her waist until her fingers gripped the crosspiece of her sword. With a single smooth motion, she unsheathed the blade and drew it before her, darting in and out, vainly searching for a place where she could strike that would not endanger the squirming Larkspur. But except for a few glancing blows to the man's legs, she was unable to do any serious harm.

Intending to finish off the other two hobbits and take out his revenge on the child, Shifty hurled Larkspur's body down with a sickening thud, drew out his second dagger, and advanced towards Merimac with blades extended in both hands. Meri tried to parry and, despite the huge disparity in height and weight, matched Shifty stroke for stroke until the hobbit's sword found its mark, leaving a slash in the man's breeches and exposing a gash on his right hip.

Beside himself with anger, Shifty hurled his entire weight on top of the smaller hobbit, planning to hammer him into the ground. Without thinking of what she was doing, and, with all the might she possessed, Cami raced forward with her sword outstretched and struck at Shifty. She felt her blade go in easily, skewering the man in the back, as Meri recovered his balance and slipped harmlessly away. Shifty halted in mid-pace, lurched forward to one side and fell to the ground, the sound of his jagged breaths first slowing then replaced by an omenous silence.

In the few seconds in which all this had played out, Pio had raced back towards the cottage landing on the porch in a single bound. Running up to Larkspur, she cradled the child in her arms carefully examining her to make sure that she was no more than bruised and dazed. Ruby gave the Elf a weak grin already pulling herself up from the grass and limping off with Merimac back towards the fence.

Cami knelt unmoving beside the still body, unwilling or unable to pull out her sword from the ruffian's back. Her face was a mask of conflicting emotions. Relief, confusion, and sadness mingled together as she stared down at the blood that was pooling on the porch.

"He never saw me Pio. He never even saw me. I just ran him through the back. But he would have killed Larkspur. I know he would. And I don't understand why he hated us so much...."

_____________________________________________

Pio’s post

Pio pulled the sword from Shifty’s body and flung it in a high arc toward the burning fields. For a single moment it hung high over the flames, the blade catching the flickering red and orange lights that licked up to claim it. It fell, heavy hilt first into the cloud of smoke and ash, disappearing into darkness.

Shifty, she left lying there, he was nothing to her. But she bent down and drew Cami up, pulling her close to her and hurried her from the porch and to the fence with the waiting ponies just beyond. The others were waiting for her there. Merimac led the way with Fosco planted firmly on the saddle before him. Behind him came Frodo-lad, followed by Buttercup with Tom before her, then Ruby holding tight to Will. Gilly was next to last, cradling Larkspur close to her, safe in the folds of her cloak. The little girl whimpered for her dolly as they rode away from the cottage. But Gilly comforted her saying that she would see to making her a new one, and what did she think the new dolly should be called . . .

The Elf took Cami up to ride before her. The Hobbit was cold, and she shivered though the night was warm. Pio tied the makeshift sling about her friend and nestled the babies in. Cami’s arms went instinctively around the little ones, and Pio drew her cloak about all of them, holding them all close against her.

They rode in silence for a long time, the ponies picking their way carefully through the smoky terrain. At last the air about them grew clearer, and the myriad of stars that grace the summer’s night shone bright again. Cami pushed back the cloak and let the clean breeze wash over her.

‘Why did you throw the sword away, Pio? I may need it again,’ she said, pulling the cloak over the sleeping babies. For a long moment, only the sound of Falmar’s hooves clip clopping on the hard ground answered her. And she thought perhaps the Elf had not heard her question.

Pio shifted in the saddle, finding a more comfortable seat. ‘It did not fit your hand, Cami,’ came the soft reply, as the Elf bent her head close to the Hobbit. Cami’s brow furrowed in the darkness. ‘But that was the one we practiced with, you said it fit me fine.’

‘I was wrong, then wasn’t I. Too blind and stubborn to see your hand was not made for it.’ Pio shook her head at her own foolishness. ‘The sword isn’t your weapon, Cami. Your words and thoughts are. Set down with your pen on paper, they shine out in the darkness. Little beacons, little guides.’ She flexed her right hand, making a fisted grip. ‘The blade is my weapon, the pen and inkwell yours. And against the darkness both are needed.’

They rode on in silence once again, and Pio could feel Cami relax against her, the rhythm of the movement lulling her into a drowsy state. Pio put her left arm around her and held her securely on the saddle. The little brown head nodded as sleep claimed her. Pio bent to kiss her curly mop. ‘What a treasure you are, my friend . . .’

He would never have seen you. she thought to herself, thinking back on what Cami had said on the porch. Not even if you stood before him, in the clear light of day. No, he would never have seen you . . .

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-20-2003, 03:19 AM

Child's post

When the warning bell first tolled over the camp, Stoatie pulled himself out of bed and made some feeble efforts to organize the ruffians' defenses. But it was apparent that things weren't going quite the way he'd planned. Peering through the shadows towards the chaos that reigned near the main entry gate, he'd caught a brief glimpse of Mithadan battling his way into the plantation with a contingent of hobbits fighting at his side.

His first reaction was disgust and disbelief. What kind of man would aid these miserable pint-sized runts? Certainly no one he knew. But, as the scene about him came into sharper focus, Stoatie acknowledged that Mithadan had not only played a critical role in this attack, but was likely responsible for engineering Ferny's disappearance. Boss had been captured or killed. There was no reason for Stoatie to stay here and die protecting a gang of men who meant absolutely nothing to him.

Pulling the edge of his hood over his face, he cautiously threaded his way back over pathways that were congested with combat and bloodshed. With all the tumult going on, he slipped unnoticed into Ferny's lair, kneeling on the floor and desperately fumbling in the dark to uncover the loose floorboard that he knew was there. A few moments of groping alerted him to the spot where the floor wobbled slightly. Stoatie grabbed hold of the end of the board, prying it up with a fireplace poker, and yanked the whole length free. Reaching inside the hole with both hands, he drew out his prize, a heavy locked box with gold and silver coins that Boss had used to pay the men and reimburse merchants for their supplies. Hearing the reassuring jangle of money inside, he tucked the coffer underneath his arm without a second glance and made his way outdoors. He raced to the stables through the growing clouds of smoke and fumes, hastily tossed a saddle over one of the horses and charged headlong out the gate.

Stoatie knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was an old hideout for Ferny's men tucked away in the South Downs. He frantically spurred his mount onward, charging through groups of combatants, and jumping over downed hayricks and farm equipment overturned in his path. Once he left the bloodiest part of the melee behind, he continued riding eastward at a hard gallop for a good ten minutes or more until he reached the eastern boundary of the plantation, an area that was uninhabited and framed with fields of pipeweed and scrub vegetation.

For some unknown reason, the fences here were higher than those surrounding the rest of the encampment; they towered a good seven feet in the air, strong and sturdily built so that it was impossible for a horse to jump over them or kick them down. Stoatie dug into his pocket pulling out a key to unlock the heavy iron gate, then relocked it securely, speedily riding south and east in the direction of the Downs.

[ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

piosenniel · 07-20-2003, 03:33 AM

‘Damnable Elf!’ muttered the jackdaw as she flapped southwards. Already her wings were growing tired and herself irritable as she realized just how wide an area there was to be concerned about between Ferny’s place and Andrath. ‘Always ordering people about without so much as a by-your-leave. Never even asked if I wanted to scout out the route, just assumed I’d do it because she said it needed doing. And for that matter, she assumed I’d know where she meant me to go.’ Bird flew on, in the direction of the South Downs. From there she guessed she’d head west and try to locate the Greenway.

She coughed and sneezed, a dangerous thing in mid-flight for a bird. The smoke rising from the burning pipeweed fields made it difficult to breathe, and difficult to see. ‘And that’s another thing!’ she snorted, ticking off another on her list of aggravations from Pio. ‘Here I am flying about in the dark – the DARK, mind you. What am I supposed to do if one of the night hunters come after me. An owl! A nighthawk!’

Her litany of the rude abuses of friendship continued on as she flew through the dark sky. Soon she left the cloud of drifting smoke and could see more clearly. She cast a wary eye about for any birds of prey, prepared to assume her other winged shape despite the previous warning of Pio. Her little heart thudded faster than usual as she scanned the skies above and to her sides.

Nothing! Bird breathed a sigh of relief and cast a glance to the ground below her. ‘What’s this?’ she thought to herself, seeing a lone rider heading south. She watched him as he stopped in a little clearing, and fumbled with something tied at the back of his saddle. His eyes darted round the clearing as he dismounted and went about resecuring the good sized, jingling box he now held in his hands.

Dropping lower she perched on the branch of a nearby tree, her interest piqued by the man’s furtive actions and the sounds of clinking issuing from the box. Visions of coins, gold coins, starred her eyes. She ruffled her feathers and chirped at the thought of it. His ears caught the sound and his head whipped round to see who was making it. Bird gasped, nearly losing her grip on the branch.

‘Stoatie!’ That despicable man stood there in the moonlight, looking straight at her. She dropped quickly to the ground, behind the tree shielding her self from his gaze. ‘Naught but a stupid bird, Stoatie,’ she heard him say to himself. ‘Better calm down, man, yer getting too spooked.’ A sudden inspiration flamed up in her mind, and with a satisfied twitter she put it into action.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Imagine his surprise as the woman of his dreams, vile as they might be, came walking . . . no, sauntering . . . out toward him from the cover of the trees. And smiling, invitingly at him . . . never mind that her eyes were hard as glass as she looked him up and down.

‘So ya just couldn’t stay away, eh, lass?’ he crooned to her, smoothing his greasy hair behind his ears with his filthy hands. ‘I’ve got us a little something to keep us comfortable once we get away from these parts, my little dumpling.’ He gave her a lascivious wink, and walked toward her, his arms outstretched, intending to plant a claiming kiss on her luscious lips.

‘Yes,’ he heard her say, in a low and smoky voice. ‘Come to mama, big boy!’ She reached out her arms as he sprinted to cover the distance between them . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Imagine his surprise, as his expectant lips met the rough bark of a gnarled willow tree, and the arms he imagined would hold him in their warm clasp, whipped round him like a noose, the thick branches of the tree drawing him tight against the trunk . . . crushing him in an inescapable embrace . . .

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And so it was that Bird, who had never wanted to ride a horse in the first place, found herself trotting along on the back of Stoatie’s mount. There was no way around it if she were to bring the strongbox along with her . . . and there was no way she was leaving the coins to be found by others . . . She turned the horse west, hoping she would meet someone to point her toward Andrath.

‘Damnable Elf!’ she muttered to herself, as the horse’s gait jostled her up and down. ‘This never would have happened if she’d stayed in Gondor . . .’

[ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-21-2003, 02:18 AM

Frustrated at not being able to find Stoatie, Mithadan made his way back toward the northern gate. The fields were burning, and Ferny’s men were in a rout. Bullies, at best, they had been deflated by the savage assault of the Hobbits, and leaderless, they had sunk quickly into a state of panic, seeking only to flee. Many had tried at first to put up a defense, and of those, many lay wounded and some dead on the cold ground of the compound.

Upon seeing him, Maura made his way to Mithadan’s side. ‘We must have given them enough time to get away with the children. There’s no use in staying any longer – just a greater chance of one of us being killed.’

Rose, her face dark with soot from the fires she and her little band had set, came running up when they saw the two men conferring. ‘We made it as far down as the southern end of the fields,’ she told them. ‘Saw only a few stragglers, and they were heading through to open fencing down there, eastward at a dead run. Looked like many had lost their weapons. And some,’ she laughed, her teeth showing white against her grimed face, ‘some hadn’t even bothered to pull on their boots or belts as they went running, holding their breeches up with their hands and hoping madly from foot to foot.’

‘Let’s round everyone one up then, and make our way to the meeting place,' said Mithadan, leaning on his sword, his face drawn and tired appearing. 'Rose take a head count of your group, and the both of you gather up the extra Shirelings we brought. I’ll get Halfred and his crew together. We’ll meet you just outside the north gate.’

An hour later, the last of the Shire band made it to where the others waited with the ponies. None of the Shirelings or Greenwood contingent had sustained any major injuries, just minor scrapes, and contusions, and the occasional cut whose flow had been stanched by a hastily tied piece of cloth.

Minto and Milo Boffin, were the very last to appear, with their brother Moro supported between them, limping. ‘Tripped over a small barrel in the dark,’ he explained, seeing the others looking at him. Minto chuckled, an incongruent sound after the grimness of their business this night. ‘Yes, and he stinks, too,’ he laughed, holding his nose. ‘Fell onto the barrel and stove it in, he did. Reeks of soured ale now!’

Rose snorted, catching the scent of him on the night’s breeze. She started to giggle, the stress of the battle bubbling out in this lighter manner. The infectious laughter rippled around the group, growing louder as each Hobbit joined in. Mithadan, himself chuckled, nodding his head in appreciation at the ingrained ability of Hobbits to pick a more positive side to a such a dark encounter as they had just gone through.

‘Let’s mount up then,’ he said, once the group had regained its composure. ‘We have a number of hours of riding yet to go before we meet up with the rest of our group.’ Mithadan’s gaze slid to where Moro was being pushed into the saddle by his brothers. His eyes glinted mischievously in the waning moonlight. ‘And you three,’ he called out, catching their attention as the last of them settled himself on his mount, ‘you ride at the rear, downwind of us!’

Minto and Milo looked at each other, and rode slightly ahead of their scented sibling. ‘Rear guard,’ they called back to him, ‘very important position for a man of your . . . umm . . . capability.’ ‘Hmmph!!’ came the curt response.

[ July 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

piosenniel · 07-28-2003, 03:32 AM

It was twenty miles from the southern border of Ferny’s plantation to Andrath where the Greenway climbed through the long divide of the South Downs and made its way to The Great East Road. The ponies the Hobbits had brought with them were already tired from their hastened journey from the Shire to Ferny’s place, and their pace was slow. Merimac still led the way for the little group that had rescued the children with Fosco held close, drowsing now against his chest. And Pio plodded along at the end of the weary line, starting to feel a certain drowsiness herself.

At the top of the Downs she called a brief halt. There was a small, clear stream nearby, and the party refreshed themselves with its cold, sweet waters, slaking their thirst from the long ride and washing their faces of the soot and grime that had drifted their way as the fields burned. Cami knelt at the stream’s side and scrubbed her hands in the frigid waters, rubbing them until they were red, and nearly raw. Shifty’s blood had come off in the first washing, but still they felt unclean. It was not until Pio sent Ruby to lead her back to the group that she looked up from her hands remembering where she was.

A short rest later, a small snack from their meager supply of food to hold back the pangs of hunger, and they were mounting up once again, heading down to the Greenway. It was midmorning when they found the clearing where they would await Mithadan and the other Shire folk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Frodo-lad was the first to see the others as they rode in, their mounts moving slowly down from the hilly uplands in a long straggly line. He gave an excited shout, and stood pointing to where the first of the ponies had picked its way down to the grasslands where the clearing lay. ‘It’s my Da!’ he cried, mounting up on his pony, and heading at as fast a pace as the pony could muster, urged on by the nudging of the young lad’s heels against his flanks.

Soon they had ridden in together and dismounted, Frodo-lad grinning from ear to ear as Sam ruffled his hair. Others from the group that had ridden with Pio came running to hold the reins of the arriving horses as their riders climbed down wearily from their saddles. Greetings, and hugs, and questions flew, each group wanting to know how the other fared and what had gone on with them.

Mithadan was the last to ride in. He paused for a moment at the edge of the clearing, his eyes searching through the throng for the ones he sought. Pio stood up from where she sat, the babies in her arms, and watched him as he walked toward her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

‘Look, Father!’ Frodo-lad and Sam stood a little apart from the others, content in each others company, when they boy caught sight of Mithadan, pointing him out as he made his way to his family. Sam chuckled a bit, catching young Frodo by surprise. ‘Why are you laughing?’ he asked his father, a frown on his face.

‘It’s not like the old stories is it, son?’ he said watching the dusty, begrimed Man walk toward the Elf in her wayworn garb. ‘He would have been clad in some shining raiment, his face clean and handsome, his grey eyes flashing as he gazed on her. He would have move toward her with a certain measure of grace in his step.’ Sam’s eyes took in the Elf, and smiled again. ‘And she would be beautiful and fair, her shining hair bound back by some Elven fillet. Clothed in a gown of silver and white, she would have smiled at him, her eyes filled with a clear light, her laughter filling the air like music as he took her in his arms.’

Frodo-lad watched as Mithadan drew near to Piosenniel. Her eyes were on him, and he smiled at her, murmuring some words, then bent and kissed her lightly on the brow. His hand came up to trace the line of her jaw, then dropped to touch each of his children on their cheeks. Their little mouths turned toward his touch, seeking the source of it. He laughed in delight as their grey eyes met his, and he nestled them in his arms, speaking softly to them.

Sam pulled his son in closer against his side. ‘Old stories aside, this turned out just the way it should don’t you think, son?’

Before the boy could give an answer one way or the other, the sound of a horse galloping in at a quick pace caught their attention, and for a moment Sam’s hand went to his blade, thinking that someone might have followed them, meaning to get revenge.

His fears were laid to rest as Bird rode into view, her dark hair flying as Stoatie’s horse took the bit in his teeth and made for the sweet grass of the clearing. She slid off her unruly mount when he came to a halt, and laying her eyes on the happy family strode over to greet them.

‘So, these are the offspring, eh?’ she said, scooping the girl from her father’s arm. ‘Got a name yet, kid?’ Bird asked, looking close at the baby’s face with a critical eye. Her nose crinkled, and she drew back her head, handing the baby to Pio.

‘Here, uhm, Mom. You take her – I think she’s sprung a leak . . .’

***Mithadan*** · 07-29-2003, 05:34 PM

Piosenniel took the bundled baby with a laugh. "Doesn't Auntie Bird want to change her after helping care for her the past few days?" she teased.

Mithadan, however, approached the horse that had carried Bird into the clearing. After examining it for a moment, he turned to the shapechanger with raised eyebrows. "Stoat?" he asked.

Bird smiled grimly. "He's been...squeezed out of the picture. You needn't concern yourself with him. He'll never trouble The Shire again."

Mithadan nodded with satisfaction. Then his attention turned to the strongbox tied to the horse's saddle. "And what have we here?" he asked.

Bird turned red and stammered. "Uh...nothing. Just something I happened to pick up in my travels."

Mithadan placed a hand on the side of the box and gave it a quick shake. A jingling noise came as its contents shifted. He gave a quiet laugh and looked sidewise at Piosenniel who smiled as well. With a nod, he turned to Bird and opened his arms wide and bowed. "Why Bird," he said. "It seems that you're twice a hero. First, for helping rescue the children and second for seizing Ferny's ill-gotten profits so that they can be distributed fairly!"

"What!" answered Bird. "Wait a minute! Distributed? Fairly? What does that mean?"

Mithadan waved Sam over to hear his words. "Surely the parents of the kidnapped Hobbits deserve some compensation. And the village of Bree will have some cleaning up to do after our raid. Surely Bree should receive some payment for that. It seems to me that Sam, as the Mayor, should see to the proper distribution of Ferny's money."

Sam took Bird's hand, which seemed suspiciously limp, and shook it vigorously. "Thank you, Bird!" he cried. "I'm sure that this can be put to good use!"

Bird ground her teeth and glared darkly at Mithadan. "Yes," she growled. "It should be put to good use."

Mithadan took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. "There you go!" he said loudly. Then he whispered so that no others could hear, "Your share of the profits from the last voyage of the Lonely Star awaits you in Gondor; enough gold to last you for some time even if you spend it freely...partner."

She perked up a bit at this, but gave Mithadan a none too gentle shove towards Piosenniel. "I'll remember this, 'Mithy'," she said. "And get your hands off me and put them where they belong. Pio, give this rogue a diaper. Its time he started acting like a responsible daddy."

Child of the 7th Age · 07-30-2003, 11:04 PM

After the two parties managed to join up at the designated spot, Cami's spirits revived as the company pushed westward under the bright rays of the mid-day sun. She encouraged her pony to trot alongside Maura's and chatted about this and that, pointing out some of the landmarks on the route as they continued their trek towards the Shire.

Cami became increasingly subdued as the Barrow-downs gave way to the rugged weald of Buckland, the territory where she and her mother had lived and worked so many years ago. As the roadway skirted along Buckland's northern border, she strained her eyes towards the Baranduin, its muddied waters bringing unexpected memories of the twisting maze of Brandybuck Hall and the cheerful hijinks of the families who resided there. An irrisistable urge assailed her to run off with Maura and leave both Tol Fuin and Greenwood behind, hiding amid the timbered hillsides of Buckland or even in the tangled groves of the Old Forest. Tightening and relaxing her grip on the reins, she grimly brought herself back to reality.

There's no time. Maura and I have no time for Buckland or anywhere else. I am wed, and the twins have been rescued. Lorien can glimpse even the depths of the Old Forest and would never permit us to stay even if the trees tolerated our presence. In any case, I would not desert my children.

Cami strained uncomfortably in her saddle, her troubled thoughts again turning back to the problems that awaited her upon returning to the community from which she had come. What Pio says is true. I am ill suited to bear a weapon. Greenwood is not the Shire, and there will be no Mithadan or Pio or Maura to shield me with their sword. Surely, Gandalf could have found a better protector for the hobbits of Numenor. Bone tired and discouraged, Cami said little for the remainder of the afternoon as her mount plodded forward; her thoughts and dreams remained locked tight inside even when Maura tried to coax them out.

Despite their success in subduing the ruffians and the deep satisfaction of securing the childrens' release, the others in the company soon found their own footsteps lagging. Too tired to push on any further, the band camped that evening near the Bridge of Stonebows nestling down into several mounds of hay lent to them by a friendly farmer whose homestead was not far from the spot where the old Bridge Inn used to stand.

Rising early in the morning to share a hearty breakfast with the farmer's family, they'd remounted their ponies and jogged westward at a leisurely pace. As they trotted along the road, they were surprised to discover groups of local folk coming out to meet them with friendly waves and gestures. The tale of their exploits, recounted in a much embellished form, had somehow swept the countryside and already gained them a number of admirers. Cami felt her flagging spirits rise as young hobbits came scampering down with their parents tagging behind, each of them bearing gifts of fruit or flowers.

Within two hours of leaving the bridge, the band arrived at Whitfurrows where the local mayor and other prominent residents awaited them, presenting Halfred with a suitably engraved plaque commending him for his foresight and astuteness in urging the assault against Ferny and Stoatie. Embellishing his speech with bucketfuls of florid prose, the Shirriff of Hobbiton and Bywater cheerfully responded, accepting the award without mentioning any of the help he'd gotten from the Big Folk. Her face red with embarassment, Cami peeped over towards Piosenniel and helplessly shrugged her shoulders, wishing that she could reach out and insert a plug in Halfred's mouth.

The finest moment of the day came shortly afterwards when Cotman and Lavinia of Budge Ford stepped forward to claim their dear son Will. Tears streamed down the parents' faces as they went round the circle and shook hands with all the rescuers, making a special point to thank Mithadan and Bird, then stopping to coo over Piosenniel and the twins.

Just as the band were about to head out on the Great East Road, Pio spied a small distant figure mounted on a pony who was galloping hard towards them and gesturing frantically in the air. Excited cries of "Da! We're here." soon went up from little Larkspur and her brother Tom as they spied their father who'd managed to come all the way down from Dwaling once he'd heard about the childrens' release. A few moments later, after handshakes and tears all around, the band again headed west, picking up their speed in order to make up for the extra time. It was early evening by the time Cami spied the sign of the Green Dragon. The band quickly broke up, with each member returning to their own family and place of residence. Cami dragged herself up the hallway of the Inn while Maura asked Cook if she could find them a room for the night since their own burrow had been totally destroyed. Too tired to know how she felt about anything, Cami dragged herself into bed and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber.

piosenniel · 08-01-2003, 03:09 AM

Gilly had put the babies to bed, and now she came dragging out to the front room where Bird and Mithadan sat, a bottle of wine, half-full on the small table between their chairs. She yawned leaning against the back of one of the empty chairs. The window was opened, the curtains drawn back, and the light from the small lamp on the table threw its flickering light out into the dark night beyond the window’s frame.

‘I’m going to bed, and you should, too,’ she told them. ‘Tomorrow is to be the naming day for the twins. Though why we have to hurry it so after all these days is beyond me.’ Bird and Mithadan looked at one another and said nothing – only bid her goodnight with their glasses raised to her, then fell to talking when she had left the room, their voices low.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pio drew her cloak about her as she stepped from the porch, gathering it tightly about her as proof against the late night’s breeze. In like manner she drew her thoughts about her, leaving no room for the prying minds of others. Less than two weeks ago her feet had taken this same path. Heavy with child then, she had sought escape from cares and concerns and gone walking beneath the fat, yellowed summer’s moon. Past The Pool and up the unnamed stream that emptied into it from the north. The moon had been full then lighting her way; now it was down to a mere quarter, and the shadows of the trees that stood along the way seemed thicker and pressed in on her.

He was there, again. Singing this time. Some singsongy tune threading thinly out into the darkness. She paused looking out at the great flat rock that sat in the midst of the rushing stream, and there at the northern tip of the rocky platform he sat as before, his legs dangling down into the foaming waters that crashed against the low promontory. For a moment it seemed his body grew less substantial and a light shone from within him. Then the image fell back in upon itself, and he became an old man dressed in grey robes pulled up above his knobby knees.

Come! he called to her. I’ve learned a delightful song since you’ve been gone.

“There is an inn, a merry old inn
Beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
One night to drink his fill.”

Pio took her place beside him on the rock, and listened as he sang the many verses of the song, his clear voice hitting each note exactly. She could tell he enjoyed the pictures the song conjured up, and she thought she caught a hint of laughter when he sang of the Man in the Moon getting tipsy.

“The Man in the Moon took another mug,
And then rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
And dawn was in the air.”

The end of the song faded out at last and blended into the rushing sounds of the river. Lorien hummed quietly to himself for a few more moments as Pio sat in silence.

What have you come for, Piosenniel? he asked her finally. To ask a favor of me you know I cannot grant?

It was in my mind to do so, Lord Irmo. She acknowledged her want in an indifferent manner, as if she had given much consideration to it and found it untenable.

An what is in your mind now?

Only to say thank you for the aid you gave us. She drew her knees up under her chin and clasped her arms around her legs. The children are safe, and back with their families. You had a part in it. She looked him full in the face. Thank you.

Nothing else, Piosenniel?

Naught that you will grant me.

She stood, her face carefully neutral. Tears of frustration, tears of sadness, shone in her eyes. She wiped them away. She would spend no more tears or anger on this futile hope.

Her feet had just crossed back on the stepping stones from the rock to the stream’s bank when he spoke to her again. I forgot to sing you the very last verse.

She listened numbly to him, her feet leaden.

“The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
As the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her surprise
They all went back to bed.”

She left him to the reprise of his song, turning her weary steps back toward the Inn.

[ August 01, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

***Mithadan*** · 08-01-2003, 02:09 PM

The door to their room at the Inn creaked slightly as Piosenniel slipped in just before dawn. She tiptoed toward the bed only to be greeted by his voice. "Did you speak with him?" Mithadan asked.

"Yes," she responded leadenly. He searched her face and read no hope there. Then he looked out the window, catching a glimpse of fair Earendil, before continuing. "He declined," he concluded with a quiet sigh.

"I did not ask," she responded. "He suggested that what I wished was not in his power to grant." Mithadan nodded, then stood. "Get some rest," he said. "Soon enough the sweetlings will be awake and making demands of you." He indicated the two swaddled forms resting in a basket beside the bed. She nodded wearily and settled atop the sheets. Mithadan waited a moment, then slipped out the door himself.

The route he took was nearly the same that Piosenniel had traversed just minutes before. The sun was rising above the green hills when he skirted the edge of the Pool and followed the river. He was still there, examining the brightening sky with ageless eyes. Mithadan.

Mithadan bowed. "My Lord," he answered. He stood silently for a moment contemplating the all too human looking figure before him. I cannot do what you wish. "I believe," responded Mithadan with care. "That you cannot. I do not doubt your words my Lord."

Lorien looked patiently at the Man. Then why have you come? "To remind you, my Lord," he answered. The Vala squinted at the Man in puzzlement. He continued. "To remind you what it felt like when you first assumed the frail form you now occupy. Do you recall the feeling when you drank at the party that night at the Inn? Pleasant enough at first, but then it felt as if you had no control over your steps. No doubt, you wondered what ailment had assailed you and perhaps even worried that your form might perish. I'm sure you recall that feeling; of lacking control. Then Piosenniel turned you away from the Inn, leaving you alone. Do you recall being alone?"

Lorien sat silently looking at Mithadan. A slight frown swept across his face. "My Lord," said Mithadan. "I only wished to remind you what it feels like to be mortal. Cami is mortal. So is Maura." Mithadan bowed again and turned away...

piosenniel · 08-01-2003, 02:12 PM

Child's post

As Earendil’s beacon of hope merged into the shadows of dawn, a solitary figure trudged wearily along the path that led to Bywater pond. Arriving at the burrow, Cami initiated her search of the bank that encircled the water, periodically halting to crouch amid the patches of grass and bracken and sift her fingers through the foliage. After an hour of scavenging in the vicinity of the burrow, she’d come up with nothing more than bits of smashed crockery, the charred remains of a mattress, unrecognizable clothing, and a few pillows with half their goose feathers missing.

Against Maura’s better judgment, Cami had stubbornly insisted on paying a final visit in hopes of salvaging a few of their belongings. That prospect now seemed remote even to Cami. She accepted her loss with equanimity; it was the other part that bothered her. Since coming to the Shire, she had spent much of her free time and all her resources hunting down tomes of hobbit history and genealogy, even contacting friends and distant kin to aid her in the task. While Lorien would never permit her to bring these back to Greenwood, she had promised to donate them to the Mathomhouse at Michel Delving where they would form the core of a genuine collection of Shire lore. It would be her one concrete contribution to her beloved birthplace, a tiny thing to compensate for Halfred’s condescending remarks and for all the dreams and visions that somehow she’d never found time to accomplish.

But Ferny had put an end to that. He and his men had savagely upended the shelves in their burrow, tossing the contents back and forth, and finally taking aim and hurling the volumes into the water. Everything was gone, even the two packets of books newly delivered from Tukborough and Buckland that Cami hadn’t even had a chance to open.

Overwhelmed with sadness for so much that was about to pass from her life, she retraced her steps to the Inn with obvious reluctance, hesitant to let go of even the ruins of this special place that she and Maura had called home. With each footstep she calculated the losses in her mind: her friends Piosenniel, Mithadan, and Bird; the twins whom she would never see grow to maturity; Sam and Frodo and Bilbo who’d known her since she was a child; even the green fields of the Shire itself. But all of these dwarfed before the one implacable reality that she and Maura would never hold each other again, or share words of love and encouragement. How was she to deal with all the problems in Greenwood, or try to help her own troubled sons reach out beyond their grief, when she herself was mired in the past?

Gazing back over her shoulder to register one final image in her mind, Cami continued walking towards the Inn, pushing open the gate that led into the rear courtyard and then to the kitchen itself. She waved a vacant good morning to Cook and turned down the corridor towards the small room where she and Maura were now staying. Coming inside the bedchamber, Cami stared over at her husband who had wakened and dressed and was already helping Holly into her clothes.

Rose knocked on the door with a breakfast tray for her parents, thinking that they might want to spend the morning together without so many prying eyes. Setting the tray down onto a chair, Rose stared blankly over in her mother's direction, thinking of a hundred questions she wanted to raise about what was going to happen next, but then hesitating to ask any of them when she saw the subdued look on Cami's face. She hugged her mother goodbye, promising to check in on her brothers and meet up with the rest of the family later that day at the twins' naming ceremony.

There was a strained interval as Cami awkwardly cleared off the night table to prepare a place for the two of them to eat, carefully positioning the platters of bacon and eggs by each setting. Maura pulled up a chair just opposite Cami who remained perched on the bed. Neither of them spoke as Cami focused intently on her plate, pushing food from one side to the other, while her husband stared absentmindedly out the window.

After a long, dead silence, Maura fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small packet placing it in front of her. Cami looked down at Andreth's journal with surprise written in her face, "But I thought this was lost when Ferny destroyed our burrow."

"No, I'd slipped it into my pocket to show Frodo at the party. It's been there ever since."

He paused and drew a short breath. "Cami, I want you to take this. Back home. Back to Greenwood. It is my gift to you. There's nothing inside that Lorien could possibly object to. Just some old history that everyone's forgotten."

She shook her head firmly, "No. You bring it yourself. Just bring it with you when you come."

"But we don't know that. I mean...." He stopped and looked at Cami beseechingly, not knowing how to continue.

"You'll come. I know you'll come," she murmurred with quiet obstinacy.

His fingers curled around the edge of the journal as if he was about to push it towards his wife. Then he thought better of it and picked the volume up from the table, slipping it deep into his pocket. Nodding his head, he gave her his promise, "Alright, Cami Goodchild Tuk. This book is yours. My gift to you. The next time we meet outside the Shire, whether in this world or some other, I will keep this beside me and fulfill my promise to deliver it to you." Then he gently kissed her grey-brown curls. The two sat down to eat laughing and chatting with each other as the cold fear of the unknown warmed for a moment under a promise born of estel .

[ August 01, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

07-01-2003, 01:08 PM	#41
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Falmar moved in a swift rhythm down the Great East Road. The few Hobbits abroad that late night stepped back in fear as the dark cloaked figure rode past them, bent low over the horse’s neck, eyes fixed on the road ahead. An Elf, they cried as she rode past. Her visage was grim, they recalled, as they recounted the sight to their wives, and moonlight glinted on the blades she carried. In the wind of her passing, her long cloak flew behind her, and she swept her gaze along the road as if seeking something. They were certain, though, that her eyes swept over them as if they were nothing. That the great horse she rode would have run over them as if they were merely part of the road, so intent were the two of them on their prey. ‘She was hunting something, that’s for sure,’ said one of the Hobbits to his wife. And from the look on her face, it will be a very unpleasant meeting for the one she seeks.’ His wife, remembering the recent stories of the ruffians in the Shire and the children taken, pushed her reluctant husband out the door and sent him running to the office of the Watch, just west of Frogmorton. ‘The Bounders should be warned,’ she told him, shoving his cap back into his hand as she bustled him out of the burrow. ‘Hurry along now! Let the First Eastfarthing Troop know that there’s trouble afoot tonight with the Big Folks.’ Not wanting to encounter another fearful figure on the road, he twisted his cap in his hands and looked imploringly at his wife. ‘You get on down to the Shiriff’s place now, Benton Marshburrow. Let him know what you’ve seen. Tell him his sister does not fancy being murdered in her bed, while her lazy git of a brother snores in his!’ ~~~~~~~~ Merimas Bolger was up early making his first round of the stables at the Floating Log in the chilly dark before the day dawned. Everything seemed in order. The horses were still quiet, and the Inn just across the yard had only a few patrons out on early business. He could see one of kitchen help come out the back door to empty the last of the dishwater onto the pebbled area to the side of the step. Seeing him, she waved and went back in. Only the small welcome light to the side of the main door, and a single light in the common room shown into the darkness of early morn. He stepped back into the stables and closed the doors securely. A soft rustling caused him to turn quickly, and he gasped as a tall, cloaked and hooded figure stepped toward him in the pale light afforded by the small open window to his right and the setting moon. ‘Merimas, I seek some information from you. A silver penny for you for your time, and two if you have what I need.’ The voice was familiar, and as the gloved hands reached up to throw back the hood, he grinned, as her face was revealed. ‘Mistress Piosenniel! I thought never to see you again. What brings you here, and at so late an hour.’ He frowned as his eyes took in how she was dressed and armed. Merimas peered round her, his eyes looking into the darkness behind her. ‘And where is Falmar, mistress? Shall I see to her?’ ‘No time for that now, Merimas, perhaps when I return.’ She drew him near and told him what had happened. His eyes narrowed at the kidnapping of her wee ones, and he listened closely to what Rose had told her of the ruffian’s whereabouts. The Bounders had been busy in the northern section of the Eastfarthing he told her – ever since the first kidnapping. There had been reports of Big Folk crossing over into the Shire in that area, and hints that they had some hidey-hole around the quarries near Scary. Patrols had been increased, and there had been no recent sightings or reports of any activity. It was believed by the Watch that the ruffians had withdrawn back somewhere around Bree. ‘And how do you know this,’ she asked. The direction she took from the Inn would depend on his answer. Merimas walked over to the door of his little room. Reaching just inside it, he pulled out a green cap that hung there on a peg, with a feather stuck in it. He put it on his head, and straightened up into an official looking posture. ‘When the business started with the kidnappings and the sightings of the Big Folk, many of us were asked to volunteer for the Watch. We meet weekly to keep everyone informed of what we’ve seen and heard. That’s how I know what I’ve just told you.’ Pio breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that many hours of searching had now been eliminated. ‘Have you heard where in Bree they have gone?’ ‘I’m sorry, m’lady, but we have not. No news has recently come from Bree, and we’ve been reluctant to go poking our noses there.’ He thought for a moment, then nodded his head as if something had come to him. ‘You know, I have friend in Buckland, in Stock. He’s the hostler at the inn there – The Golden Perch. He would have more recent news as the Bucklanders have more to do with the folk in Bree-land than we do.’ He motioned her over to the desk that stood to the side of his room. ‘Here, let me write a note to him for you. His name is Tomlin, ‘Tommy’, Goold, and he’ll be staying there like I do here.’ He saw her out to the darkened yard, and held the horse’s reins as she mounted. She fished in the pouch at her belt for a penny, but he held up his hand and shook his head. ‘My pleasure,’ he said, ‘and my duty, too’ He jammed the cap on his head and waved her off. Once gone from sight, he turned and waking one of the sleeping ponies, galloped west, making for the Shiriff’s house. ~~~~~~~~ Mithadan! I am bound for Bree. Where are they taking them? No urging needed, Falmar flew down the road toward Buckland . . . Mithadan's Post: In the midst of all this, Piosenniel's voice appeared in Mithadan's head. He responded curtly. No time. Ferny's place south and east of the east gate of Bree. Then he returned his attention to the matters at hand. [ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] [ July 08, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-01-2003, 01:36 PM	#42
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	The ruffians moved swiftly over the gravely paths that wound through the hills north of The Water; clenched tightly in Stoatie's fist was the handle of a small pronged whip that he used to smack his horse's flanks urging him forward at a hard gallop. Stoatie also kept a close eye on Gilly registering every move she made. Whenever she threatened to lag too far behind, he reached over with his lash and snapped it across her horse's withers to be sure she kept up the pace. Although the men managed to overtake the village of Budge Ford in a little over three hours, mounting exhaustion forced them to divert off the path and lead the horses down to the stream so they could wade in and drink. All three animals stood panting in the stream, with the water rising close to their bellies and their sides heaving rhythmically in and out. The group would clearly not be able to continue this pace without stopping for a real rest. "How much longer we got to go?" Shifty whined. "I'm achin' and hungry and half dead." Stoatie lowered his voice and growled, "Shut yer trap. Anyways, we still gotta ways. It's another eight, nine hours to Bree." "All the way to Bree?" Shifty interjected in an irritated voice. "But I thought....." Stoatie cut him off. "You think too much fer your own good. Now shut yer trap or the hobbit rat will git some ideas." Gilly was now sitting stiffly in her saddle, staring over at the ruffians with a look of undisguised disgust on her face. "Nah," grumbled Shifty shrugging his shoulders. "She's just a dumb rat who don't know nothin'." With that the two men put their heads together and began to whisper, mulling over the details of the route. Gilly patiently watched from the back of her horse, then slid down still holding the twins and tred warily over to the spot where the men were talking. The babies had stopped their demanding howls and were instead wimpering and looking out at the world with disaproving eyes that refused to focus. Gathering all her courage, Gilly siddled up to Stoatie and tugged insistently at his sleeve. "Excuse me, but I hope your boss likes dead babies because that's what's going to happen soon." "What ya talkin' about?" Stoatie glowered and peered over towards the brats. "These babies haven't had a drop to drink for nine hours or more... " "So what? Give 'em water!" Stoatie jerked his thumb towards the stream. Gilly stubbornly shook her head. "Babies aren't like that. They need milk or juice. Plus I don't have any bottles. They can't drink without bottles." The nursemaid turned away with a shrug, "It's your decision. If your boss doesn't mind dead babies, it's all the same to me. After all, one Big Folk is the same as another. I'm not going to stick my neck out." She looked around the glade and went to sit down in a patch of tall grass plucking off a few of the flowers and beginning to weave a chain of daisies. She's lyin', Stoatie thought. But he wasn't sure. He knew very little about babies. And to tell the truth, these two looked a lot more wobbly than when he'd first seen them. He glanced over to where the woman was seated. "So what d'ya expect me to do. I ain't got no cow or bottles out 'ere. And no hobbit is gonna welcome a man even if I was willin' to stop." "That's not true," countered Gilly quietly, continuing to pluck daisies and carefully intertwine them. "The border towns like Stock or Rushy have been known to do business with the Big Folk for a long time, especially those that bring along a hobbit friend. The Bree merchants offload their goods there; their hobbit partners turn a pretty penny for hauling them into the Shire. If they were to see you with me, they'd just assume we were trading partners." "If yer lyin', I'll kill you and the kids." I'm not lying," responded Gilly as she steadily met his gaze. "We're only a few miles from Stock. The Golden Perch would have exactly what I need. But it's up to you, of course." She put her head down, stared intently at the pattern of her skirts, while continuing to braid her flowers. "Come on Boss," Shifty pleaded. "I'm hungry as the blazes, and the horses look like they're keelin' over. Anyways, how many people will be up and about in the wee hour before sunrise?" "All right," growled Stoatie. "But this is what we're gonna do. Shifty is gonna stay outside hidin' with the boy brat. You make one funny move, and that's the end of 'im." "Suit yourself," noted Gilly, casually shrugging her shoulders. "I'll just find him an extra bottle and bring it back with me." With that, the band turned and headed for the Perch, making their way southward through the meadows of high grass. By the time they reached the outskirts of the tiny hamlet, it was still a good hour before dawn and everyone appeared to be asleep. Stoatie pulled his hooded cloak over his face and pushed open the door to the Inn. The nursemaid followed along behind holding the baby girl in the cradle of her arm and clutching the wicker handle of the diaper basket with her other hand. [ July 02, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-02-2003, 02:25 AM	#43
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	The Inn was quiet, the yard deserted. Gilly looked up to where the chimney at the rear of the roof was. Good! There was a thin stream of smoke drifting up into the pale sky. If the cook here were anything like Cook at the Green Dragon, she would have been up already for several hours with her baking, and would just be settling in for a cup of strong tea before the morning rush began. To her right, there was a single light in the stable, shining out through the open window. The hostler, too, would be up, going from stall to stall seeing to his charges. It gave her some hope that in the craziness of the last hours, the daily wheel of routine rolled on in the Shire. Stoatie gripped her hard at the elbow, hissing low at her as they climbed the steps not to try anything funny. It was all she could do not to cry out at his hurtful touch, but she bit her lip and hugged the little girly tightly, remembering that the awful Shifty held her brother. They entered the Common Room, and Gilly could feel Stoatie push up against her now, the sharp tip of his knife concealed in the folds of his cloak. He nodded toward the grey haired Hobbit who stood behind the bar, a clean white rag in one hand, polishing a tray of mugs. ‘Git over there and see if she’ll get you what you need. Get us some food, too, while you’re at it. Have her pack us a basket, so’s Shifty can eat, too.’ Stoatie nudged her with his knife, pushing her forward. ‘Your pardon, ma’am,’ said Gilly as she approached the woman, trying to keep the quaver out of her voice. ‘My partner and I are bound for Deephallow, to trade some goods for mushrooms and Marish mead. We’ve been traveling a long while and we’re hungry.’ The woman looked out the front window of the Inn and raised an eyebrow slightly at the girl’s story. ‘Trade goods, eh?’ she thought to herself. ‘Well I wonder where their wagon is. The girl looks nervous, and that Man she’s with is a nasty piece of work, if I’ve ever seen one.’ She moved nearer the counter, putting her hand to the stout cudgel her husband kept under the bar. The little girl whimpered, and Gilly bent her head to her, patting her on the back in an attempt to quiet her down. The woman’s face softened at the sight, though she kept one eye on Stoatie. ‘Here let me hold the wee babe! I’ve got a way with the little ones.’ She reached out for the girl, and Stoatie ground his teeth in irritation. ‘Asphodel Bracegirdle,’ said the woman, running her finger along the baby’s soft cheek. ‘My husband’s Rory, the Innkeeper.’ She looked at Gilly. ‘And you are?’ Stoatie cleared his throat at this question and glowered at Gilly from under his hood. ‘Rose,’ she stuttered, ‘Rose Goodchild and this is . . .’ The baby turned her head eagerly toward stroking finger, seeking it with her mouth. Asphodel, distracted, did not press further for Stoatie’s name. ‘Ah, you’re hungry little one. Where’s her bottle,’ she asked looking up at Gilly. Gilly’s mind worked furiously. ‘We had an accident with the basket that held some of the supplies. It fell off the cart. The babies’ bottles broke.’ She smiled ingratiatingly at Asphodel. ‘Would you by any chance have a couple I could buy from you?’ Asphodel carried the baby toward the door into the kitchen. She propped it open with one foot and yelled in. ‘Salvia! We’ve got some hungry customers here. Bring ‘em a couple of plates. And those bottles we keep for the babies, warm some milk and fill ‘em up for the wee ones we’ve got visiting.’ Stoatie glared at her, and clenched his fists. He didn’t like that she had the baby, and now she was talking about two of ‘em. Gilly blanched, too, at the mention of two babies, and said she must be mistaken - it was just the little girl who needed the bottle. ‘Oh, is that so?’ said Asphodel, lifting her chin to nod at the door behind them. ‘Then who’s that?’ There stood Shifty in the doorway, looking dumbfounded at the squalling bundle he held at arms’ length in front of him. ‘I can’t stand it no more, boss!’ he whined, thrusting the screaming infant at Stoatie. ‘The kid won’t stop squawking and he’s wet to boot. Here! You take him!’ The vein at Stoatie’s temple throbbed viciously as he took in the situation and felt his control slowly slipping away. Gilly ran between the two men and took the baby from Shifty. ‘Here, I’ll take care of him.’ Asphodel stepped up to her side. ‘You two gentlemen just take a seat and Salvia will have some food for you in just a moment. Rose, bring the baby over here, and we’ll get them both changed. Stoatie kept his eye on the two women, and Gilly could see his hand on the hilt of his knife. She got out clean diapers and a little blanket to lay on the table that Asphodel indicated they would use. They were near to finishing up when Salvia blew in loudly from the kitchen with the plates of food and chatted up the two men. ‘Are you alright?’ whispered Asphodel. As she slipped a clean gown over the girl’s head. ‘Girl! You done with them babies yet?’ growled Stoatie, his mouth half full of ham and biscuit. ‘Get over here and get something to eat. We got to get going.’ ‘I’m almost done!’ she called back to him. He and Shifty went back to stuffing their faces, and Gilly leaned in close to Asphodel as she scooped up the boy. ‘The name is Gilly,’ she whispered. ‘Someone will be looking for us. Give her this.’ She thrust the wadded up square of cloth into Asphodel’s hands. ‘And tell her Fern’ys place . . .’ Stoatie had gotten up from the table by then, suspicious of the two women with their heads together. ‘Shifty’s done,’ he said, ‘and so am I. We got business to be takin’ care of. Haul yourself and them out the door now.’ He grabbed the bottles of milk with leather nipples from the cook, and shoved them into the pockets of his cloak, and hurried Gilly out the door, Shifty trailing in his wake. Shifty shoved her roughly up onto the horse’s back and thrust the babies at her. ‘Keep ‘em quiet,’ he threatened her. ‘I can’t stand another minute of one of them bawlin.’ She settled them in against her in her improvised sling, and propped the bottles for them to feed. ‘Please Pio,’ she whispered to herself, ‘Find us soon.’ Stoatie slapped her horse into a quick pace and took the lead, shouting at Shifty to make sure she kept up the pace . . . __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-02-2003, 08:06 AM	#44
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Mithadan's post Upon hearing Halfred's cry, Ferny spun around. Several Hobbits stepped out from the trees bordering the clearing and advanced upon the Men with bows at ready. Mithadan turned and, still holding Frodo, stepped forward until he was a pace away from Ratty. Ferny laughed and waved his sword in the direction of the Hobbits. "Step away now!" he cried. "If you come any closer we'll kill your little friend Frodo! We're leaving and you'd best not follow us." Halfred and his deputies fanned out in a line twenty paces from where Ferny stood and held their ground. From the far side of the clearing several more Hobbits stepped out from the trees and raised their bows. "If they follow us, slit his throat Mithy," cried Ferny. "Let's go!" Mithadan shifted his weight and turned his sword so that its edges were parallel to the ground. Then he leapt to the side, dragging Frodo with him and swung his blade at Ratty with strength fueled by the rage which had built up within him over the past few days. Ratty collapsed to the ground with his neck half severed. Mithadan spun, shoving Frodo behind him as he turned, and raised his sword to face Ferny. "Traitor!" cried the ruffian. "You are the traitor, Ferny," replied Mithadan quietly. "In the name of Elessar King of Gondor and the Reunited Kingdoms you are under arrest. Drop your blade!" Ferny looked from Mithadan to the Hobbit archers and licked his lips nervously. Then, with a fey laugh, he lunged at Mithadan. Ferny fell with three arrows in his chest. Behind him, more bows twanged and two of the ruffians fell as well. The remaining two dropped their weapons and raised their hands. Sam raced forward from the trees and hugged Frodo tightly before turning to Mithadan. "Thank you," he said. "You've been a good friend to The Shire." "We're not done yet," said Mithadan grimly. "Stoat has taken Gilly and the twins to Ferny's plantation in Bree. Fosco and the other children are there as well. We must gather some strength of arms and be off before Stoat realizes that something has gone awry!" [ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-02-2003, 10:38 AM	#45
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Trussed up like geese, ready for the spit, the two remaining ruffians were marched off to the Locks under the watchful eye of Filibert. Halfred had held a hurried conference with his brother, and after some brief argument, Filibert had seen the reasoning behind his brother’s request that he stay behind and act as Shiriff in his stead. ‘I’ll send round some lads with a wagon,’ said Filibert as he took charge of the prisoners. ‘We’ll take the dead ones up north a ways and put them in some unmarked hole in one of the empty fields. Fitting enough, I should think, that they feed the worms and enrich the soil they so despised.’ He mounted on his pony, and pulling the two men secured to his saddle by a long rope, stumbling along behind him, disappeared down the little path from the pool to the road. Halfred rejoined the others in the group – Milo, Hugo, Sam, Hob, and the three Boffin brothers. They held a short discussion with Mithadan, then mounted up, and made their way, too, down to the road that headed east. [ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-03-2003, 02:37 AM	#46
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	The sun had crested the Hithaeglir by the time Pio reached the eastern bounds and turned south to Stock. The well worn dirt road that lead to the Golden Perch was already starting its run of morning traffic. A farmer with a handcart filled with fresh vegetables, another with a pig and a basket of mushrooms made their way in the chill morning air to the Inn’s kitchen door. Pio drew her hood forward, her face well hidden in its folds, and slumped wearily on the back of her mount, giving the impression of a tired traveler seeking the comforts of the Inn. There were no other riders near the stable as she entered the yard, urging Falmar toward the rear of the stable. The stableman was drawing water for the horses from the pump when she spied him. Dismounting, she walked quietly up to him, clearing her throat as she neared to draw his attention. ‘May I help you, Miss?’ he asked, shading his eyes with his hand as he tried to see her face. She pushed back the hood and held out her hand with the note from Merimas. ‘Tomlin Goold, is it?’ she asked, placing the folded piece of paper in his hand. ‘Oh, aye,’ he returned, ‘though “Tommy” is what I prefer.’ He set down the bucket, and unfolded the message, scanning it quickly. Merimas had sent her, he read, asking that his good friend, Tommy, assist her as he could. As they walked back to the stable, Pio explained the urgency of her mission and asked for news concerning any rough looking Big Folk traveling through the area and in particular anything he knew about the kidnappers. ‘It’s strange you should ask that,’ he began, and proceeded to tell her of the odd visitors to the Inn just before dawn. Mistress Asphodel, the Innkeeper’s wife, had waked him up and sent him for the Shiriff, he said. ‘Come into the Inn and you can speak to her yourself.’ ‘It’s almost as if she were expecting me,’ Pio thought, as the woman took her by the arm and led her to a secluded table. Asphodel pitched her voice low and gave Pio an accounting of what had gone on in the early hours. ‘She didn’t tell me who would be looking for her, but she said someone would. She said to make sure I told you her name was Gilly. And that it was “Ferny’s Place” . . . and, oh, this also.’ She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out the folded cloth square. ‘The men were rough that she was with, and she seemed afraid of them, and asked me not to do anything to put her in more danger. She said that someone would come for her. I did nothing while she was there with them, but once they left I sent for the Shiriff to tell him what had happened.’ The Elf’s face was grim as she listened to the woman’s story, but softened as she stared at the square. Her clear grey eyes sough the Hobbit’s, a small spark of hope banked within. ‘The babies,’ she asked, her face serious once again. ‘Did you see them? Were they well?’ She steeled herself against the answer. Asphodel’s mouth opened with a little ‘O’ of surprise as the truth registered in her mind. ‘You’re their Mother, aren’t you?’ She reached out her hand and placed it on Pio’s arm. ‘She’s taking good care of them. They’re fed, and warm and dry. I think it was for their sakes that she wanted no fuss made that might make the men angry.’ Pio stood to leave, thanking Asphodel for her help as she did so. ‘I’ll not keep you,’ said the Innkeeper’s wife, ‘but let me get you a small packet of food for your ride to Bree.’ Tommy had seen to Falmar while she talked to Asphodel. Watered and fed, wiped down, and her bridle readjusted, she shook her head as Pio approached, declaring herself ready to go. Tommy held the reins as Pio mounted, and Asphodel handed her up the packet of food. They both wished her well as she sped off; then, Asphodel sent Tommy back to the Shiriff’s. ‘Tell him one of the Fair Folk has come to the Inn. It was those kidnappers who passed through here early this morning. And it’s her babies they’ve taken this time.’ ~~~~~~~~ Falmar flew east, her hooves swallowing up the miles. Little ones!* she called reassuringly to them, I am coming for you. Sleep now. Stay quiet when you wake. Your ammë is near . . . Mithadan! Ferny’s Place . . . where is it? Show me . . . __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-04-2003, 01:30 PM	#47
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Child's post From the moment they left the Golden Perch, the ruffians made good time for the remainder of the journey. Reaching the Brandywine at a deserted juncture, they'd picked up fresh steeds from one of Ferny's men who was waiting with a raft to ferry them across. The men breathed a sigh of relief to leave the Shire behind them with no one the wiser for their presence. Even after they'd crossed the river, they were careful to stay off the main highway. Stoatie knew the territory well and managed to keep the group going steadily eastward using a maze of hidden paths which lay just north of the roadway. It was shortly after lunch when they approached the outskirts of Bree. Intent on getting back as soon as he could, Stoatie refused to listen to Gilly's pleas for another rest stop, smacking her sharply across the jaw when she refused to shut up. They skirted around outside the city's fortification and, within a short time, had arrived at the entrance to the Plantation, banging loudly on the gate and alerting the entire camp to their arrival. [ July 13, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-04-2003, 08:04 PM	#48
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	At least they were done riding. Gilly was thankful for that. She and the babies had been shoved into a small cottage that stood at the far end of the plantation. Run down from the outside, it was hardly better on the inside. It was filthy, the windows all painted over and nailed shut, affording them no fresh air for circulation or any light save the single lantern that was on briefly at night, or so she had been told. Some sunlight filtered in through the thin layer of paint, but it only succeeded in making the interior seem gloomier and dirtier than if light had been allowed through. Scattered about on the floor were several dirty mattresses, with only thin, raggedy blankets thrown on them. Two Hobbit children were sitting on one of the mattresses when she was roughly pushed in through the door, and they looked up at her, quickly averting their eyes as if she might have been sent to hurt them. On one of the other mattresses sat a small, dirty boy she was sure she knew. He looked up at her boldly, wiping his runny nose on the ragged sleeve of his shirt. She sat down next to him, and leaned in close, ‘Fosco?’ There was a noise at the door, someone turning the key and coming in. Fosco looked at Gilly and put his fingers to his lips. ‘Pretend you don’t know her when she comes in,’ he said to her, in case one of the other bad men is with her. ‘Who?’ whispered Gilly. Bright light spilled in through the open door, partially blinding Gilly as it hit her eyes. Blinking a few time to clear her sight, she dared a look at the two Big Folk who entered. One was Stoatie, who glared at her as he spat on the floor. Gilly gasped when she recognized the other one. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and lowered her eyes to the the floor. It was Mistress Piosenniel’s friend who had just sauntered in. Bird! __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-07-2003, 09:09 AM	#49
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It is over, here. Tinged with tiredness and a sense of some relief the words broke in on her concentration as she headed south from Stock to cross at the ferry in Buckleberry. Are you uninjured? she returned, knowing he would minimize it if he were. Still she could not feel any pain come from him. Must go soon. Plans to be made. Here is the plantation . . . and here the cottage where the children and Bird are. Take care, beloved. She fixed the clear image in her mind and rode on. [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-08-2003, 03:37 PM	#50
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Gilly and Bird A small flicker of hope sprang up, quickly shielded from the prying eyes of Stoatie and that despicable Shifty, who had followed in behind him, slamming the door and waking the twins. Their fussy cries built to a crescendo and Stoatie took a menacing step toward them, his hand at his knife. ‘Get ‘em, Boss!’ snickered Shifty. ‘Those brats are nothin’ but trouble for us anyways. Kill ‘em and dump ‘em on the dunghill.’ His lips creased his face in a nasty smirk as he looked at Gilly. Bird slapped the knife from Stoatie’s hand and pushed him back hard against Shifty. ‘What’s the matter with you, you dumb sod!’ she screamed at him. She picked up one of the babies and held it up to his face. ‘This ugly little piece of Elf-flesh is our ticket out of here when the mother comes for them . . . and our heads too, I might add. She’s probably hot on your trail even now – or did one of you grow a brain between you and gave some thought to hiding your flight here?!’ Shifty looked warily at Stoatie. ‘By the One! I knew it!’ She gave Shifty a hard cuff on the ear. ‘Get us some milk for them, and make it quick. That’ll shut the little blighters up. The Shire rat here can feed ‘em.’ She glowered menacingly at Gilly, who cringed down as if Bird might decide to strike her. ‘You, too,’ growled Bird, shoving Stoatie out the door. He ran his eyes appraisingly over the small woman, an approving leer fixed on his face. ‘I ain’t got time for your calf-eyes now, Stoat. Get me someone to fetch me some water. We’re just about out of it. This place stinks and the other brats can clean it up a little so’s I can stand to be in here with them.’ Stoatie’s eyes swept about the interior of the shack and his nose crinkled in disgust as he took in the full flavor of the cottage. He winked at Bird then left the reeking room, bellowing for someone to get on it. Bird crouched down quickly by Gilly, and nestled the baby in her arms. ‘Quickly now, before someone comes. Tell me all that you know and most important, were you able to leave word or a sign for Pio somewhere along your way of where they have taken you.’ Gilly filled her in as best she could, her knowledge, of course, limited only to what had happened to her and the twins. And yes, she had left something for Mistress Piosenniel in Buckland. Bird listened closely, trying to figure when she could expect the arrival of the Elf. She kicked herself mentally for not polishing up those osanwë skills Pio had tried her best to teach her. At best the ability was sporadic – she never got the whole message anyone sent, and was never sure how much of hers was received. She rubbed her temples, and screwed up her face, eyes shut. Gilly was a little taken aback by the grotesque look on her face, but kept quiet. Pio! . . . twins . . . Gilly . . . be ready . . . Bird opened one bloodshot eye at Gilly, wincing in the dim light. She rubbed her brow and pointed to the basket that Gill had brought with her. ‘Any willow bark powder in there,’ she croaked. ~~~~~~ Pio at the plantation With the instructions from Mithadan held firmly in her mind, Pio dropped south from Buckland before heading east across the South Downs. Angling, then, a little north, she approached Ferny’s place from the south, and waited until the sun had once again dipped below the hills to the west before proceeding in the darkness. She left her horse hidden in a copse of trees and, tucking her cloak about her, went in silently to see how she might get to the cottage he had shown her. Late yesterday she had gotten a brief message from Bird. It pierced the grim thoughts she had been having – the babies at that time were upset and frightened and had reached out for her. The thought that Bird was there comforted her somewhat. She could count on Bird to see to the safety of the twins and Gilly. But she dared not hope that could last long. She must get them out of there and soon. The perimeter of the place was patrolled. Though, the guards did not seem all that alert, still there were a fair number of them. Many of which she could eliminate, she knew. But still she would be outnumbered. She withdrew back to where her mount was hidden. Settling herself down to wait, she sent out three brief messages. Bird! I am near and awaiting Mithadan. Mithadan! There are too many here for me alone. Come quickly, bring aid. Will await your arrival. Little ones she called more gently, your ammë is here. Sleep now. Soon I will come for you . . . __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-13-2003, 02:35 PM	#51
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Stoatie rambled over to the main building in the compound, the place that Ferny made his home. The room was furnished in a comfortable fashion, complete with a large storage cabinet filled with all types of ale and beers, even some fine wines imported from the south. Peering inside and seeing that no one was there, Stoatie made himself at home in Ferny's easy chair and stuck his shabby boots up on the table. He picked up one of Ferny's pipes and filled it with a handful of the finest weed, tamping it down into the bowl. Stoatie leaned back in the chair and proceeded to send up a whole raft of smokerings. A hobbit would have deemed his rings rather wobbly, but Stoatie was pleased with his results. Then he barked out orders to the sentry standing guard commanding him to hack off a large haunch of venison from the firepit and bring it in to him on a fine silver plate which they'd stolen from one of the hobbit homes. This was indeed the life. Stoatie lolled back relaxing in the Boss's headquarters with an entire caraffe of wine in one hand and a generous haunch of venison in the other. He wiped his greasy paws on his pants, but ignored the driblets running down his chin or the grease that was spilling over and congealing on the plate. Pretty soon he'd be living like this every day. No cares, no worries, no more frantic heists. Just a feisty woman like Bird to keep things interesting. Ferny had promised him generous recompense if he could only get the twins, and he'd come through on his part of the bargain. Now it was Ferny's turn to do a little giving. The venison settled heavily in his stomach; after finishing the entire caraffe of wine and an ale thrown in for good measure, Stoatie found his eyes growing heavier and heavier. Within less than an hour, he had drifted off to sleep dreaming of the day when he would be boss in his own house with a woman at his side responding to his every beck and call. [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-13-2003, 02:37 PM	#52
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	With Cook's good wishes ringing in her ears, Cami had slipped out the back door expecting to head quietly on her own up to the rendezvous point where Halfred and Maura were taking on the thugs. She had not gotten further than a few feet from the gate when she heard the sound of a small band approaching. For a moment her heart lurched in her chest as she wondered if a gang of thugs had stayed behind in the Shire and was about to accost her. But a closer look at the group assuaged her fears. They were all hobbits, each and every one of them, mostly lads but a few lasses thrown in for good measure. She caught a glimpse of her daughter Rose, Maura's sister Zira and her husband Ban, and even her own son Gamba. There were also a number of local hobbits who made their homes in Hobbiton and Bywater. "We're coming with you," Merimac declared. "Word's spread all over what's happened to Miz Pio and Gilly and the babies. Miz Pio's been a good friend to us and we're determined to help. Plus Fosco and the other children as well..." Cami looked sympathetically at Merimac. How hard these weeks must have been for him! The she glanced more warily around the larger group; each of them had at least remembered to bring a weapon and a pony. They were armed for battle, with an assortment of bows, swords, daggers, clubs and pitchforks. "This could be dangerous," she countered. "Very dangerous." "We know that," a young lass piped in, "but we still want to come." Cami looked over at Rose who walked her horse forward till she stood at the head of the group and then responded to her mother's unspoken question, "Believe me. This will be alright. Everyone here knows what they're doing. They've all been practicing with their weapons at the classes that Maura and I gave. Many of them have served on the watch." All right, then," Cami relented. "But it will mean hard, fast riding. Nothing's going to happen to those twins if I can help it." With that Cami whipped her horse around, and galloped down the path towards the spot on the map where Maura had told her to meet up with them. The band thundered on close behind with each rider straining his or her eyes for the first treasured glimpse of Halfred and his men. Drawing closer to the designated spot, Cami cautioned the riders to slow their ponies and keep under cover staying as silent as they could. She asked Merimac to creep forward and try and find out what was happening. He disappeared into the thicket and reappeared a short time later, a broad grin on his face. "Frodo is safe. Just a twisted ankle so he had to head back to the Inn. Thank goodness, Ferby's bit the dust. None of the hobbits were seriously injured. Mithadan and Halfred were hoping for reinforcements so we've come just in time." Cami felt her breath come easier. "Alright then, stay mounted. Merimac lead the way." Within a moment they had mounted the ridge and could see clearly across the plain. Cami clicked her heels against her pony's side and urged him to gallop forward. At her first sight of Mithadan, she stood up in her stirrups calling out a heartfelt welcome, "Mithadan, thank goodness, you're alright. Look, these folk want to come with us and help." At this point, she nodded to Halfred. "Halfred, Mithadan. Can we start tonight. Does anyone know where Pio is or where the children have been taken? What can we do to help?" [ July 14, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] [ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-14-2003, 02:23 PM	#53
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	‘We’ll start now,’ returned Halfred to Cami’s question. She glanced up at Mithadan to confirm this statement and he nodded his head yes. ‘Mister Mithadan has laid out a plan for us, and having considered it, I think it will work well.’ Cami glance up again to the man standing behind the Shiriff, but he only raised his brows at this assessment of his strategy, then urged Halfred to carry on. Halfred hunkered down in a patch of moonlight and picking up a short stick from the ground, drew a crude map of where they would be going. ‘We’ll keep to the Great East Road, here,’ he said, tracing a long line in the dirt. Once we reach Bree-land we’ll turn off here at the south gate of Bree and head south east.’ Mithadan crouched down beside the Shiriff and sketched in the outline of the plantation. ‘It’s a large plantation,’ he said. ‘The north gate, the main entrance is here. And down here in the southern end is the cottage where the children are kept.’ He looked eastward, his grey eyes cold in the moonlight. ‘There are a large number of men who work the plantation. We will need to draw them away from the southern end. That is where Piosenniel will be. And Bird also,’ he said speaking to Cami. ‘We need to give them enough time to get the children out and away.’ ‘Yes,’ broke in Halfred, pointing to the main entrance. ‘And that’s where we come in, we need to raise a ruckus here and get them riled up enough to come after us. Some of us will do that while others of us hide in ambush to pick the Big Folk off.’ ‘For the most part,’ added Mithadan, they are a band of lazy louts and cravens. Stoatie will push them on against us, and they will do his bidding. Once he is removed as their goad, their resistance will fade away rapidly.’ He stood up, his hand resting lightly on the pommel of his blade, the fierce look on his face making his intention clear. Halfred opened his mouth to say something further. Thinking better of it, he whistled for Dumpling, his pony, and mounted up. ‘Let’s go then,’ he called out to the group. ‘Mount up! We’re bound for Bree.’ Down the road they flew, the clatter of the ponies’ hooves ringing loud on the dark road. Piosenniel! We are riding east now. Will contact you when we have arrived . . . [ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-14-2003, 02:31 PM	#54
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Himaran's post: Lamplight covered the road in front of the stable, spilling out into the grass on its side. Several workers strode inside, not thinking to look into the bushes beside them. For behind one Frodo-lad lay, pressed down against the ground to avoid detection. After they were gone, the hobbit quietly left his hiding place and hurried inside. Looking around, he saw that no one was around except for several hobbits cleaning out one of the far stalls. Earlier that day, Frodo-lad had made up his mind to follow the hobbits whom he had heard were going to rescue the twins. He had hidden near the stables for several hours, waiting for them to arrive, and had seen them ride off on their ponies. Now, he hoped to procure one for himself. Soon finding a steed which suited him, the hobbit lifted the heavy saddle onto it with difficulty and tied a rope to it. Slowly leaving the building, he led the pony through the door and out onto the dusty road. The hobbit breathed a deep sigh of relief; he had not been spotted. It took him several hours to catch up with the party, due to the darkness. To be sure, his father was angry that he had followed, but Mithadan took pity on Frodo-lad and took his side in the argument. Finally, it was agreed that he could stay with the group, as long as he was quiet and would not go wandering off like he did so often at home. Frodo-lad promised to obey the rules, and the party rode off down the road once again. [ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-14-2003, 03:23 PM	#55
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Frodo came slowly up the steps of the Dragon with one hand fastened tightly on the bannister and the other clinging to a sturdy walking stick Maura had yanked down for him from the limb of a nearby beech. He had left his pony behind with Cami so she could use it to bring one of the children home. The frustrating part was that, in a day or two, his ankle would be perfectly fine. But right now he'd only be in the way if he tried to ride along with the band and take part in the general assault on the plantation. There was certainly no way for him to wield a sword effectively when he could barely make it home by putting one foot in front of the other. Despite the other hobbits' assurances that he had already done his share by going out on his own to face Ferny, Frodo felt deeply disappointed. He limped wearily inside the Inn up the corridor to the room which he and Bilbo shared. Standing in the hallway just outside the door, Frodo could make out the muffled sound of voices sparring angrily back and forth. Bilbo was ranting and fuming, his words underscored with tones of worry; the other voice in the room sounded vaguely familiar to Frodo, but it was hard to place. The door was unlatched. Frodo turned the handle and walked inside, immediately going over to Bilbo to give him an affectionate hug. The frail figure stood up and glared. "I don't know whether to cry with tears of joy or give you a piece of my mind. Whatever got into your head? Everyone downstairs was talking about how you were going off by yourself to fight Ferny. I didn't know if you were alive or dead." Frodo smiled gently and draped his arm over Bilbo's stooping shoulders, "Don't believe everything you hear. I didn't quite go off on my own. Halfred led his deputies and a band of volunteers over to the spot where Ferny had said I should go. They hid in the bushes and tall undergrowth, springing out at the last minute to attack. Mithadan was there, and he made sure I was safe." "But you've hurt yourself," Bilbo countered pointing down at his nephew's leg. "It's nothing. Just a sprain. Mithadan tossed me behind him for protection and I ended up falling down and twisted my ankle. Not a very noble story I'm afraid. I wanted to go on to help rescue the children but..." Frodo sighed and let the last idea go unfinished. "Well, in any case you're safe." Bilbo responded with gruff affection. "And with no thanks to you, I might add." The old man turned to the corner and frowned at a willowy shaded figure who'd stood warily at the side of the room until this juncture. Lorien sauntered up to Bilbo, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. "You see. I told you. Everything's fine. There was no need to do anything." Bilbo's face turned red; his veins bulged out at the side of his temple. He looked as though he might start shouting again when Frodo intervened, walking directly up to Lorien and speaking, "Whatever happened to me is not that important. But there are a band of hobbits out there risking their lives to try and save Pio's twins and the other children." "Bilbo's right. You must do something. You brought us here. None of this might have happened except Ferny was still angry over what took place at the Scouring. It was my presence that stirred all this up. Bilbo and I trusted you. You owe something to those children and to those going to help them." Lorien narrowed his eyes and peered back at the small hobbit, "Just what do you expect me to do? Get on a horse and fly over to Bree." "I don't know. You can answer that better than I can. But you must do something." Lorien drummed looked out the window and drummed his fingers against the window ledge. "I don't know. I'll think about it." With that the tall figure walked out of the room and disappeared down the hallway in the direction of the back courtyard. ******************************************** It was still dark when Stoatie blearily opened his eyes and stared around the room. For a moment nothing came into focus; he could not remember where he was or why he had come here. Then it hit him. He was still closeted in Ferny's private lair where he'd been sampling his personal stock of liquor, enjoying the soft cushions of the easy chair, and chowing down on a generous haunch of venison. Almost instinctively, Stoatie lurched to his feet and peered suspiciously around the room. If Boss had seen him lolling about here, he would not have been pleased. As much as Ferny relied on Old Stoatie, there was still a definite boundary between them. Boss was Boss, and Stoatie was Stoatie, and never the two should meet. Stoatie stumbled out the door mumbling a question to one of the guards who was supposed to be on duty. "Where's Ferny? He should be here." "Dunno'," muttered the man, shrugging his shoulders and reaching deep inside his pocket to retrieve a generous flask of ale which he promptly began to chug down. This time Stoatie raised his voice, "What time is it? How long have I been here?" The fellow groggily eyed him, then looked away and started to ramble off. Stoatie's response was immediate and angry. "I was talkin' to yuh. I want an answer." This time he got an answer. "Dunno'. Boss ain't here. It's been a couple o'hours since you came in with the brats." 'A couple o' hours?' How could that be? Ferny was supposed to get into camp an hour after he and Shifty arrived. The Boss must have met a mishap on the road. Maybe his horse had thrown a shoe, and they'd stopped for help. Or maybe he'd gotten a chance to pull off another heist. Still, Ferny's stomach felt queasy as he stared over at the main entrance, straining his eyes to try and catch a glimpse of Boss. But he could see absolutely nothing in the darkness except fading shadows and silence. For one uneasy moment, he remembered that Ferny had been riding home with Mithadan. Then he told himself to calm down. Nothing had gone wrong; he just had to be a little more patient. He yawned, stretched and tried to ignore the dull ache that had begun at the base of his neck and was now spreading and reverberating throughout his entire head. He decided to go to bed to catch a few minutes of sleep and see if his head stopped hurting so much. He would tell the men to wake him as soon as Ferny came riding through the gate. [ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-15-2003, 01:48 PM	#56
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	She had hidden Falmar well west of the southern edge of the plantation in a small depression behind a shrubby rise. Untethered, the horse awaited her call, her tail swishing against the small swarms of midges that pestered her when the breeze died down. Pio crept, under cover of darkness, nearer the edge of Ferny’s place, and now lay flattened against the ground in the sparse shadow of some low lying scrub near the fence. There were no guards at present patrolling this section of the plantation perimeter, as far as she could see or hear. To the east of the cottage and slightly north was another small cottage. The windows to it were open, and she could see numerous shadows pass by between the lamp within and the window itself. Some of the men within were sleeping – the heavy, deep sleep that comes with a long day’s hard work. But most were up and about . . . and drinking, their muddled thoughts betraying their drunken state. Pio worked her way along the wooden fence. She was thankful that Ferny had been so confident that no one would venture near his enterprise that he had put up the simple, wooden split-rail and post type of fence. It afforded her an unobstructed view of the yard. Nearing a view of the front end of the cottage, she froze as she heard the sound of heavy steps on the wooden porch and voices. ‘We’re havin’ a little get together up in Shifty’s cabin. Got us a keg of ale in from the Pony. You want to join us?’ The lewdness of the drunken man’s intentions came through clearly, and Pio stifled a laugh as he went tumbling over the porch railing and sprawled on the ground. ‘Out of here, you scurvy dog!’ came the strident tones of Bird, a wooden chair held out before her, its legs pointing menacingly at the downed man. ‘I oughta break this over your thick head. Who’s gonna watch the brats if I leave? The little Shire rats would be gone in the blink of an eye if I left ‘em alone for a minute.’ She glared down at the drunk. ‘Then who wants to tell Stoatie and Ferny their precious cargo has flown the coop?’ Bird heaved the chair down at the man as he scrambled to his feet, and watched as he staggered off, muttering a few remarks on her lineage. Pio kept her head down as several more men wandered through the yard, one on his way to the sheds behind the cottage, the other drawing near to the fence to relieve himself. When the two had finished their business Pio raised her head again and pushed herself under the rails of the fence, careful to avoid the stinking puddle to her left. Approaching the side of the cottage nearest her, she tried the windows, but they were nailed shut from the outside. Nothing to do but go in through the front door. She crept up to the door and knocked softly on it, then retreated off to the side of the porch. The door to the cottage flew open, and a small shaft of light from the lantern within knifed into the darkness. Bird growled out a warning for whoever it was to get out and quit bothering her. ‘I’ll give you a taste of my stick if you come any closer,’ she hissed, slapping the stout stick on the porch railing. ‘Try it and I’ll cut it from your fingers before you can bring it down,’ came the low, familiar voice back to her. Startled, Bird lowered the stick, her eyes searching the shadows. ‘Pio?’ Bird shut the door to block the light, throwing the porch into darkness. ‘Yes, I am over here, at the end of the porch,’ came the whispered reply. Pio climbed quickly up and over the railing, crouching down in the corner and pulling Bird down beside her. She quickly went over the plans to rescue all the children, assuring Bird that Mithadan and some Shire folk would be here soon, bringing mounts enough to get the children away. ‘You and Gilly must be ready to bring them out quickly once I come for you.’ She drew a knife from her boot. ‘Here, give this to her. Tell her to be ready to use it.’ The twins began to fuss as she spoke with Bird. And on impulse, she rose to go to them. But Bird grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back down. ‘Someone is coming,’ she hissed at her friend. ‘Stay down, I’ll see to it,’ said Bird. Pio drew her blade and held it in readiness. ‘Ya wouln’t come to the party, so we’ve brought it to you!’ The drunken voice of a different man spoke out from the yard, his words slurring. ‘Lock those brats in and come out here and join us for a round.’ She could see him wave an overflowing tankard in Bird’s direction. ‘And don’t tell me you need to watch them – they’ll be alright for a while . . . and besides, they’ll all be dead once Ferny gets back. We won’t need ‘em no more.’ A number of other soused agreements were thrown out by the others who had come, following the keg. ‘Let me just lock the door, then, Shifty’ replied Bird, seeming to acquiesce to the party mood. ‘ And let’s move the celebration further from the cottage. I don’t want the wailing from the little mongrels to spoil my drinking.’ Pio relaxed, sheathing her sword, and slipped off the side of the porch as they left. Glancing regretfully at the locked cottage, she made her way back to where she had hidden Falmar. Her fingers twitched at the thin loop of cord she had coiled at her belt. She had marked well the face and voice of the man who said the children would be dead. Shifty, Bird had called him . . . ~~~~~~~ She shook her dark thoughts from her, and reached out for the twins. Gilly must have calmed them – they slept fitfully, half on the edge of hunger and exhaustion. She fought the urge to steal only them away, leaving the others behind. I am here, little ones. She whispered softly to them, nudging their dreams to a pleasant place, rocking them gently in her thoughts . . . [ July 15, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 03:08 AM	#57
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Mithadan chafed at the pace the group set. The ponies ridden by the Hobbits were stretched to their limit, and he knew it would be of no avail for him to urge their riders to push them more. It would be tomorrow night before they reached Bree. And once they were near it, it would be several more hours before they would come to Ferny’s plantation. ‘Another day’, he thought grimly, ‘that my children will be in the hands of Stoatie and his crew.’ Piosenniel! There are a large number of Hobbits who ride with me. It will be tomorrow night before we reach you. Difficult as it was for him to concentrate as they rode along, still he hoped she had received his message, and the list of names of those who were heading east with him. Surprise played on the features of his face as he heard her reply come back to him, strong and swift. Cami, who rode to one side of him, saw his eyes widen in the moonlight and heard his sudden sharp intake of breath. ‘Are you alright, Mithadan?’ she asked, concern creasing her brow. ‘Do we need to stop? Are you hurt?’ He waved his hand at her, indicating he needed nothing. He turned his attention away from her and listened closely to Pio as she spoke to him. ~~~~~~~ It will be best that you are here at night. Days are very busy – many men roaming the plantation, working at their appointed duties. At night, only a few guards wander about the northern fence, and they are lackadaisical at best. Here by the cottage where the children are, I have only seen two guards, and they came and looked about in a haphazard manner, and did not return. I think they feel Bird can look after them, and leave them mostly to her. Though this end of the yard, which is far from Stoatie’s cottage, is often milling with men late into the night who are at one stage of inebriation or another When you come – send three to me with their ponies and one extra for Gilly – that will be enough to get them all out. I am going now to speak again with Bird. And this time I will go in and see the babies. Take care, beloved. We await you.’ [ July 17, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 03:11 AM	#58
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It was very late at night before Bird staggered back to the cottage. In a few hours it would be dawn, and most of the men in Shifty’s cabin were dead drunk and collapsed on the floor, the sounds of their loud snores and grunts punctuating the stillness of the night. Bird reached the door and fumbled at the lock with her key. Pio, had slid beneath the fence as she saw her friend returning, and gone silently up the stairs behind her, listening to the string of invective Bird hurled at the recalcitrant key. ‘Here. Let me try it for you.’ The low voice at her shoulder and the feel of the hand as it slid over hers to steady her grip made Bird gasp and twist away from the perceived assailant. Pio could see the thoughts forming in Bird’s ale-fuddled mind, and she grabbed Bird’s arm. ‘Open your eyes and look at me,’ she hissed, moving in closer. ‘Bank the fires, Bird. It won’t do to have the dragon spring out now.’ A certain level of clarity invaded the red rimmed eyes, and she growled back at Pio. ‘Two more seconds, Elf, and you woulda been toast!’ She cuffed Pio clumsily on her ear. ‘When will you ever learn? Don’t scare the shapechanger!’ By now Pio had the door unlocked, and opening it wide, dragged Bird into the dimly lit front room and locked it securely. ‘Sit down and collect your thoughts as best you can. I have heard from Mithadan, not long ago. Bird sat down on one of the straight back chairs at the table, and held her head in her hands. ‘And if you have anything for that headache you will have later today, best you be taking some soon.’ Pio outlined when Mithadan would arrive, and with how many Hobbits. She explained what he and the greater body of the group would do at the north entrance, and how he would send several Hobbits with ponies to help in the escape of the children. Bird’s face turned a pale shade of green at the mention of the little mounts and she looked beseechingly up at Pio. ‘Tell me you aren’t expecting me to ride one of those overgrown dogs back to the Shire! My gut is already lurching at the thought of it.’ Pio laughed at the expected remarks, saying she had hoped that Bird would become the jackdaw and spy out any who might pursue them. ‘Your plan is sounding better by the minute, Elf.’ Bird rose from her seat and searched the cupboards for a packet of headache powder, and finding one poured herself a mug of cool water to mix it in. Down it went in a gulp, followed by a mighty belch. Pio laughed quietly and shook her head, as the sour odor of old ale mixed with the sharp smell of willow bark powder perfumed the space between them. The sound of the door to the back room opening, stopped her laughter cold, and she slid into the shadows at the corner of the room. Her blade, slipping easily from its sheath, was held lightly in her hand. It was Gilly, she had heard the voices and come to see who it was. ‘I thought I heard a familiar laugh, Miz Bird,’ she said, peeking round the room. ‘But it must just have been a dream.’ Her eyes stopped on the dim figure in the shadows and she cried out in fear. Pio stepped into the dim light, sheathing her sword, and motioned the frightened girl to her. ‘Not a dream, Gilly. I have just come to tell Bird that Mithadan and a great many of our friends from the Shire will be here tomorrow night, about this time. And that I will come to take all of you to safety.’ Gilly collapsed against Pio, sobbing silently. ‘I knew you would come.’ She drew back and sniffled a bit, wiping her eyes and nose on the sleeve of her dress. ‘You have been very brave, Gilly,’ said Pio, taking the Hobbit's hands in hers. ‘I got the information I needed from the Innkeeper at the Perch thanks to you.’ She plucked a folded square of cloth from her waistband, and held it out to Gilly. ‘And this, too, that you left for me.’ Pio tucked the square safely away again, and sitting down on one of the chairs drew the lass in closer. ‘I know, too, what a comfort you have been to the babies. They were depending on you, and you came through for them. I will always be in your debt for doing that for us.’ ‘If you’ll just get us out of here, Mistress Piosenniel, I’ll consider the debt repaid a hundred times over.’ She straightened up her posture and gave another swipe at her eyes. ‘Sit right there. Let me get them for you.’ Gilly came back out, a sleepy eyed Fosco trailing along with her, one hand gripping firmly Gilly’s skirt. ‘Pio,’ he said, rubbing the sleepy dust from his eyes. ‘Has my mommy and daddy come to take me home?’ He looked about the room hopefully, his thin little fade falling when he did not see them. His lower lip quivered and a tear threatened at the corner of his eye. Pio gathered him into her arms and spoke softly to him. ‘Can you be brave for one more day, Fosco?’ he nodded his head hesitantly at her question. ‘Your daddy is depending on you, Fosco. He is riding here with Mithadan and will be here tomorrow night, about this time. Can you be brave until then?’ The little Hobbit hugged her fiercely and nodded his head vigorously. ‘And be as quiet as a mouse about it. Say nothing about me or what I have told you until we come for you. The bad men must not know about us.’ Fosco’s solemn little face broke into a smile at the thought of having one over on the bad men, and he hugged her once again. The babies, held in Gilly’s arms, stirred at the sound of their mother’s voice and the scent of her nearness. They cried out and she reached out for them, drawing them in close to her. Their sweet baby smell came through the layer of grime that covered them and their raggedy blanket, and she could hardly breathe for the intensity of feeling their presence brought her. She nursed them, letting them take their greedy fill of her, until drowsy with milk, they slipped into satisfied dreams. She looked at each little face for a long time, and kissed the corners of their lips. ‘Take them from me, Gilly,’ she said handing them one by one back to the Hobbit. ‘Before I cannot let them go.’ She stood, straightening her tunic about her, and drew on the cape she had thrown over the back of the chair. ‘Tomorrow,’ she said to them. ‘Until then, know I will be near, watching out for you as I can. She kissed the twins on the cheek and ruffled Fosco’s hair. Bird blew out the lamp and opened the door, checking for any prying eyes. There were none, and she motioned Pio out the door, watching as she climbed over the side of the porch railing and disappeared into the darkness. [ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 06:41 PM	#59
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	The moon was already riding the western horizon when Pio made her way to the small rise west of Bird’s cottage. A long day was still ahead of her before the pieces would be in place to wipe the blight that was Ferny’s place from the countryside. Since she had not the power to make time run any faster, she opted to make good use of the time that lay before her. In less than an hour, the sun had declared her presence and the compound to the east began to stir, readying itself for the new day. Men streamed from the small dormitories clustered in the northern section of the plantation, making their way to what she assumed was a dining hall. Smoke issued from two chimneys set in its southern end, and the smells of eggs and porridge and fried meats drifted out to her on the cool morning air. From that building the men went to the small sheds gathered in clusters about the large fields and took out the implements needed for the day. Much of the area, she noted, was devoted to growing a broad-leaved crop. Pipe weed, she guessed, though she had never seen it except in its dried form. It seemed a labor intensive planting, even in the established fields. Men hoed and weeded about the plants, and there were numerous hands whose only job it seemed was to inspect each leaf and pick off any pests found on it. Pio wondered what promises Ferny had made to these men, that they would spend their day engaged in such mindless labor. What most engaged her thought as she watched them stream out to the fields like so many ants, was the number of them that Ferny employed. By her count there were at least fifty men. Fifty! Mithadan and the Hobbits from the Shire numbered twenty four. Twenty six with her and Bird counted in. They were out numbered two to one, and from what she could see, there was no opportunity for her to do some discrete hunting and thin out the ruffian population. If Mithadan and some of the Hobbits were to face the bulk of the men at the north end, the outcome appeared grim. She plucked a piece of tall grass from a nearby clump and sat chewing on the stalk. How could she swing the advantage their way . . . ~~~~~~~~ The sun was warm on her face, and something was nudging her in the back when she woke from her little nap. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and patted Falmar between the ears as the horse nudged her once again. She was tired; she couldn’t remember when she had slept last. And she had woken just now from the strangest dream . . . one of those disconcerting fantasies whose various parts shimmer and fade if looked at too hard . . . leaving one feeling just a little on edge, on an uneven keel. Pio smiled as she stretched to get the kinks from limbs that had lain too long in one position on the uneven ground. An idea had come to her, and with any luck it would even out the odds a bit. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, settling herself into a comfortable seated position on the ground. She had spoken to him before in this manner, and now she reached out to find the familiar pattern of thought that was his. Lorien!* She could almost feel his eyes flash and his head snap up in irritation. Piosenniel. Not a question, only a simple acknowledgement that she had spoken, and in doing so, disturbed him. She put away the sudden consideration that perhaps being disturbed was the main function of the Vala. No need to antagonize him further. I have found a way you can assist us in getting the children away from here safely. she continued. Indeed! And that would be . . .? The desire to pursue the reason why he did not know already what she wanted – wasn’t he a Vala, after all – was also put from her mind, at least for now, as she went on the detail the particulars of their plan for the rescue. Tonight, as the men lay sleeping, I need you give them frightening and confusing dreams. Weaken their spirits, sap their strength, so that there is not much fight left in them when Mithadan and the Hobbits attack at the north gate. Even the odds a bit, so to speak. She could almost sense him sigh as he marshaled his arguments against this action. Pio cut him off before he could tell them to her. We need you to do this, Lorien. We are depending on you to help us in the way that you can. You are the Master of Dreams; this is a task you can do. She heard the "but" form in his mind. If you do not step in where you are needed, your entire purpose for being here will be for naught. Cami and Maura, Rose and Gamba, Zira and Ban will not be returning to the ages from which they came . . . They will be dead, Lorien. Struck down by Ferny’s men. And whatever thread of time their presence knit together, it will unravel . . . and as it unravels, it will take others with it. Surely that is not an end you wished to accomplish on your journey here? She heard only silence from his end . . . She shrugged her shoulders, and turned her gaze back to where the men now were working in the fields, calculating just how many she could take out if the need arose . . . her thoughts drifted back to her request, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he was welcome to prove her the fool for not ‘believing’ more strongly in the integrity of the Valar – as long as he would see this one thing done . . . Amid the buzz of the clouds of little midges that swarmed about her head, determined to taste Elven blood for their afternoon meal, Pio at first did not hear the quiet words that played about the edges of her consciousness. Amused, the voice grew louder. I said, a simple thank you will suffice, Piosenniel . . . [ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 06:45 PM	#61
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It took longer than anticipated to reach the outskirts of Bree-land. One of the ponies had thrown a shoe, and they had to stop at a small holding on the eastern edges of Buckland to find a replacement for the limping mount. By the time they reached the western border of Bree-land, it was late afternoon. Mithadan turned them south, just where the Great East Road bordered the southern edge of Bree. And it was five hours later, or just on the cusp of darkness, when he halted the group and pointed out to them the sprawling lands of Ferny’s place to the south. ‘There’s the gate, there,’ he said, his pointing finger indicating the northern fence line and the entry way near its eastern end. ‘That’s where we’ll enter and draw their attention away from the cottage down there near the southwestern corner of the fence. That’s where Bird is and where Gilly and the children are being held.’ He led them to a little depression just north of Ferny’s place, where they could rest for a while, waiting for the night to grow darker, and the men to settle down for sleep. While the Hobbits dozed, Maura came to sit beside him. He asked Mithadan what some of the other buildings were, and Mithadan pointed out the dormitories, the armory, and Stoatie’s cottage. ‘Perhaps we should think about torching some of those buildings while we’re there,’ offered Maura. ‘Nothing like a little smoke and flames to cause confusion.’ Mithadan nodded his head in agreement, then pointed out once again the cottage where Stoatie lived. ‘We can burn them all to the ground, as far as I’m concerned. But that cottage there, and the weasel who lives in it . . . that one is my concern.’ They sat in silence for the short time it took the sky to turn a deep, inky black. Mithadan looked to the southwest, hoping to see a familiar figure there along the boundaries. Piosenniel! We are here. Soon I will send some riders down to you and you can begin to take the children away. By the time they arrive, we will have come in by the north gate and our attack will have begun. Take the children west to the Greenway, near the South Downs. We will meet you there when we are done. He felt her lips kiss his brow gently. We will await you there. Then there was only the quiet of the night . . . and one by one, the torches in the outdoor sconces that lit each doorway in the compound were put out, as the men made ready for sleep and the restful pleasures of their dreams . . . [ July 18, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 06:46 PM	#62
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Lorien He sat with a bemused look on his face and a large mug of mulled wine in his hand. The little window of his room faced west, and he followed the course of Arien as she pushed the vessel of the sun below the rim of the world, leaving darkness in her wake. He took a large swig of his drink and rolled the flavorsome liquid about his mouth. There were not many who actually called upon him for his services. Many cursed him, to be sure, when their dreams were filled with dark and dreadful things, but the ones whose dreams were filled with delight soon forgot them, and no words of thanks fell from their lips for the one who had sent them. Lorien raised the mug to his lips, but they met no enticing brew. ‘Who drank it?’ he wondered, a soft hiccup punctuating the thought. His free hand reached out for the pitcher he had thought to bring up stairs with him and he poured himself another round of pleasure. ‘To Arda,’ he said, raising the mug to the darkening scene that spread out below his window. ‘And here’s to Piosenniel,’ he said to a passing cloud as it drifted across the yellow face of the moon. Swallowing her stiff-necked Elven pride, she had thanked him in advance – for services not yet rendered. That was worth two drinks in his book! ‘Well,’ he remarked to no one in particular, ‘best get on with the task she’s set me.’ A last mug of wine found its way down the Vala’s throat, as he tipped back in his chair and propped his long legs on the windowsill. His mind, a bit muzzy with the delights of the vine reached out east, seeking the men Pio had spoken of. The gibbous moon shone in the window, as he wove a riot of dreams and phantasms for them. Its cold light cast his sharp features into a wolfish relief, and he smiled as the dreamers tossed and turned in their little beds without respite. [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 06:47 PM	#63
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Child's post Stoatie watched with mounting trepidation as the familiar images flickered in and out, first hazy and then distinct until they finally solidified before his eyes. This is a dream, he reminded himself. Only a dream. But he had a strange premonition that this dream was far more significant and concrete than any he'd ever had. His stomach lurched as he glimpsed the features of the land and road spilling out in front of him. He tried to will his body to stand still to stop what was happening, but his efforts were powerless before the inexorable chain of events that was about to play out again. Step by step, his feet carried him down the path that had been so much a part of his childhood. He could see the threadbare hut at the end of the track with its broken windows and rotting boards and a crooked door that was always hanging half off its hinges. There was an awful ruckus going on inside. Crashing and banging and the sounds of a woman desperately pleading for mercy. Stoatie ran down the dirt pathway, fingering the hilt of the old stiletto dagger he'd found that he always kept hidden in a leather pouch deep within his pocket to shield his body from the evil monster who lurked inside the hut. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. It seemed like an hour or two before he actually reached the door. The bottom hinge cracked as the door pushed outward crashing down under the weight of the man who fell against it. Tall and bulky, his face a mask of rage, he ran out onto the grass still clenching an axe in his right hand, the edge of its blade tinted with red. The man wasn't looking where he was going and came barrelling into the boy, sending both of them sprawling onto the ground. The two stood up and faced each other. "Git outta here, Richard. There's nothin' to go back to. Scram!" The man lifted the axe over the boy's small head and hesitated as if he wasn't sure whether or not he should bring it down and strike. Then, letting the wooden handle slip from his grasp, he thundered down the path and cut across the field vanishing into a thick wooded grove. There were no sounds at all coming from the hut as Stoatie ran in through the door and flung himself at the foot of his mother's bed. The woman's body lay twisted and broken amid the bedclothes in a grotesque mockery of the human form; blood streamed down from a great gash at the base of her neck. Stoatie tried hard but could not stop the tears that cascaded down his dirty cheeks. He leaned over and kissed her goodbye. His father had done it just like he'd warned the two of them a hundred times before. The boy berated himself. Why hadn't he been here with his dagger to protect against the beast? If he'd only had his weapon, this would never have happened to the one person whom he cared for. Stoatie ran outside unable to stand the hut and its secrets any longer. He ran and ran until he threw his body onto a tiny hillock that faced towards the outside world. Rage and fear welled up in his heart. He pulled out the stiletto and stared at it. He was very conscious of what he was doing. He wished he had a cat or a rat, but there was no time to go looking for one of those. He crumpled his jacket up into a ball and drew his fist upwards with the blade still clenched in his hand. Then he brought it down. Once, twice, a whole sequence of sharp thrusts. Stoatie skewered his own jacket again and again as though it was a living thing he was intent on murdering. When he finally finished, he curled himself up into a hunched ball, his tears still coming in jagged gasps. Finally falling into a deeply troubled sleep, the young boy vowed that he would never stop skewering and killing until he managed to find his father and even the score. [ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 06:48 PM	#64
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	When it was completely dark, and the lights in the cottages scattered about the plantation had dimmed and then gone out altogether, Pio crept closer to the fence line and waited. She reached out to listen to the men as they drifted off to sleep. Her mind reeled back from the contact, shielding itself from the writhing dreams that gripped them. Lorien had come through, and she was glad of it. Mithadan reached out to tell her they had arrived, and were now going in. Cami, Merimac, Frodo-lad, Ruby and Buttercup had been sent with an extra horse for Gilly and should reach her soon. By the time they reach you, our attack should be well under way. And most of the men will have come north to fight against us. It should be safe for you to bring the children out and make your escape easily under cover of darkness. Pio waited, her ears and eyes opened wide for any sight of her reinforcements. ~~~~~~~~ Mithadan pulled the key he had taken from Ferny and slid it into the big iron lock on the gate. The tumblers creaked as he turned the shank and engaged the bit. He stopped and listened carefully for any signs of trouble before opening the gate wide. Halfred and his two deputies were the first through the gate, followed by Mithadan and Maura. Stoatie had set two guards near the gate for the night, worried when Ferny had not returned home. But they had indulged in the new shipment of ale from the Pony, and they slumped in the chairs they had brought out for themselves, their chins resting on their chests, snoring. Their eyes, beneath their lids, darted furtively from left to right, and they whimpered at times and cried out, raising their arms to cover their faces as if to protect themselves. Halfred, Milo, and Hugo made short work of the sleeping men, knocking them soundly on the backs of their heads with the stout cudgels they wielded. Truth be told, the Hobbits much preferred to lay low their foe with a good thwacking, rather than run them through with a blade. Soon all of the Hobbits had poured through the gate, and dividing themselves into the little groups they had decided on earlier in the evening, swarmed through the northern section of the compound – making mischief, causing confusion and panic. Wreaking destruction where they could, killing when they must. The men were slow to respond – groggy and muddled as they pulled themselves from their cots and went to see who was causing such a ruckus. And many of them believed that this was simply a waking part to their bad dreams and sought a way to escape from any encounter. Those who did pull themselves together for the fight were met with force. The Boffin Brothers bows were put to good use as their arrows flew with deadly accuracy to their intended targets. Sam and Hob waded in grimly with their thick, blackthorn walking sticks, and soon there were many men hobbling about whose heads and shins bore the lumps and bruises where the sticks had connected. Maura led five of the local shire lads along one side of the compound, his sword driving back any who dared come against him. The five had pulled the oil-soaked-rag wrapped pitchy torches from their holders, and were now using the flints they’d brought to relight them. The sound of breaking glass and the panicked yelps of those who tried to stay hidden in the dormitories rang out in the darkness as the torches set bedding, and curtains, and wooden furniture ablaze. Rose and her Greenwood contingent led the assault on the opposite side of the yard, their blades and bows laying low many of those who crossed their path. ~~~~~~~~ He was aware that the others had fanned out as they had planned. But the greater part of Mithadan’s attention was focused elsewhere. Blade held in the ready position, he made his way carefully round to the east side of the plantation, to Stoatie’s cottage. Mistaking him for one of them, the harried men nodded to him as he approached and let him pass. Several he stopped, asking for the whereabouts of Stoatie. ‘Haven’t seen him,’ they all told him. The ruffians seemed in a state of panic. Something other than the surprise of the armed Hobbits must have put the wind up them. Many were unarmed, their eyes wild. And many had no heart it seemed to join the fight. Escape drove them instead. ‘Just like that cowardly weasel to desert his ‘comrades’,’ snorted Mithadan, as he pushed his way past the fleeing throng, searching . . . [ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-17-2003, 09:33 PM	#65
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	theWhiteLady's post After Mithadan opened the gate, Rose had led Gamba, Ban and Zira around Ferny’s house towards the long dormitories. Running low, Rose focused first on the armory, placed right where Mithadan had described it to be. She worked quickly, grabbing a brand that was still smoldering from its holder and relit it with a piece of flint pulled from one of the small pockets of her dress. Several more torches were lit from the one and each thrown in the narrow windows of the armory; surveying her work, Rose noted with a small smile the warm glow of the fire as it caught on the wooden spears and other weapons. A series of muffled yells from inside the dormitories testified that the other hobbits had also met with success. Gamba, Ban, and Zira were using their short swords like clubs; most of the men were unarmed and their well placed blows discouraged any serious attacks. The hobbits’ most imminent problem now seemed to be keeping the men from fleeing towards the children’s cottage. Rose glanced to the right, straining to see if the escape had yet been made, but her eyes landed instead upon a long, low building almost hidden beyond. A wicked grin lit her features and, knocking a bleary-eyed man - who looked rather as though he wasn’t sure if this wasn’t all just another nightmare - out of her way, Rose ran towards the building grabbing another torch on her way. The building was, of course, used to dry pipeweed after cutting and it was stuffed full of long leaves hanging like curtains from the ceiling. Rose lit her torch and hurled it with all her might into the densest section; the pipeweed, as dry and fragile as tinder, burst into flame, and the little hobbit was forced to scramble away as flames stretched orange and red fingers to the bright stars. Rose returned to the dormitories and was delighted to see that Ferny’s men, seeing the bonfire shoot up from the southern side of the farm, assumed that end was also under attack and were now fleeing away from the fields. It was several days later before Rose learned her bonfire had spread to the fields and ended up destroying them and their crop completely. [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-17-2003, 09:35 PM	#66
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	Cami clicked her heels into the side of her mount and noiselessly urged the animal forward skirting along the open range that bordered the southwest side of the plantation. She would have preferred to have more cover than this but bushes and trees were few. The band of five was clearly silhouetted against the inky horizon. Fortunately for them, as they pulled their ponies up to the fence, Ferny's men were nowhere to be seen. Merimac glanced back at the small herd of ponies that had been quietly following behind them, and whispered in Cami's direction, "Do we have enough? Are there enough for all the children, and Gilly?" "I think so," she murmurred trying to keep count in her head. "Anyways, the youngest can always double up if we have to, and I'm sure Pio will be holding the babies. Let's just get in there and get them out." Merimac nodded grimly. It was obvious that he was thinking about his son who'd been missing for so many weeks. Cami nervously eyed the other members of her party. Merimac at least had experience as a member of the Hobbiton watch, but the others were rank newcomers. Ruby and Buttercup and Frodo-lad had never set foot outside the Shire and had certainly not wielded a weapon before. Not that she was in much better shape than they were. She looked down at the sword that hung awkwardly about her waist and fervently pleaded to all the powers in the heavens that she would not have to use it. Climbing up onto the bottom railing, Cami cupped her hands to her mouth and hooted softly into the night, hoping to attract Pio's attention. Then she turned round to Frodo-lad and Buttercup. "You two stay here. The three of us will go and make sure everything's all right. When the children come up to the fence, get them mounted up as quickly as you can and pull back over there." Cami indicated a small copse of trees that was a few paces distant. "Then wait for Pio. She'll know where to go." Turning to give a final hug to Frodo-lad, Cami sternly instructed him to listen to Buttercup and do whatever the older hobbit said; then she walked over to the fence with Ruby and Merimac and slid her body adroitly between the rails. A moment later, all three of the hobbits had slipped through to the other side. In the distance they could see Piosenniel standing and motioning to them to come quickly. Cami and Merrimac sprinted down the trail in the direction of the old shed with Ruby doggedly following a few steps behind. [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.

07-18-2003, 02:08 AM	#67
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Pio could smell the acrid smoke on the air, and see the flames of the burning wooden structures reach up high into the night sky. The small number of men who bunked in the southern area of the plantation had roused from their beds and grabbing their weapons made their way to the area of the main dormitories. She watched the guards halt in their haphazard patrol of the southern boundaries, their attention caught by the tumult of noise and flames. Then, they, too, headed north, moving quickly. One of the figures who had come out of the cottage to the east of Bird’s did not go north to aid his fellows. Blade drawn, he picked his way toward the children’s cabin and up onto the porch. She watched as he rattled the door handle, unable to gain entrance, as Bird had locked it from the inside. He pounded on the door with the pommel of his sword, his voice loud and angry, demanding entrance, and was met only with silence from within. She could see him shake his upraised blade, and then leap over the railing at the edge of the porch seeking, as he landed, the window on the side of the cottage. Two blows to the glass and it shattered. And soon he was pulling his lanky body up to the window sill in an effort to enter. He did not get the chance to do so. She had come up behind him at a dead run. Holding her sword in a two handed grip, she delivered two hard cuts to the tendons just above his heels. The sharpness of her blade and the force of her swing drove the blade through the leather of his boots, severing the thick chords. He fell with a loud cry, and found he could no longer stand upright. He lay sprawled on the ground, blood welling into his boots. Above him in the dark, he could hear her speaking. ‘You threatened my children. Put them in danger. Hurt them.’ He whimpered saying it was not his fault, that Ferny had made him do it. She put the tip of her blade to his throat and silenced him with the sharp pressure of it. ‘I care not for your excuses.’ His eyes flew wide and he threw up his hands to try to push it from him. The blade slipped deeper. Sharp at first, the sensation dulled as the blood pumped from his dying form. His hands fell useless at his side. Pio stepped over him, wiping the blood as she went, on the hem of her tunic. 'Bird!' she called out loudly. 'Gilly! Open up! We have come for you.' From the corner of her eye she could see Cami and the others approach the fence with their ponies, and she motioned them to come quickly . . . [ July 19, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-18-2003, 02:09 AM	#68
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	There were scuffling noises from inside the cottage of people moving about, near the door. Pio could hear the sounds of something heavy being pushed away from the door. Bird’s voice voice, muffled by the thick oak door, could be heard directing Gilly. ‘Put your shoulder to it, girl. It’s Pio out there.’ The scraping noises ceased and there came the sounds of a key being turned in the lock. Then the door was thrown open and Bird, her face drawn and grim, grabbed the Elf pulling her in to the front room. ‘Someone is trying to break in,’ said Bird hurriedly, pointing to the back room on the west side of the building. She and Gilly had pulled the children from it and barricaded the door with a chair jammed under the handle. Gilly gripped a hefty piece of firewood and stood ready to waylay the intruder should he break through their makeshift barrier. ‘He battered on the front door first and when we would not let him in,’ continued the Hobbit, ‘he must have gone round to that window on the west. We heard the sound of glass breaking in there as we bolted the door, but have heard nothing since.’ Pio could see the tired, frantic look on Gilly’s face, and how her arms trembled with fatigue and anger mixed with fear. She crouched down by Gilly and took the club from her, laying it on the floor. ‘He’s dead, Gilly. I have seen to it.’ Gilly collapsed into Pio’s arms as Bird breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe. Cami and Ruby came running in the door just as Pio wiped the tears from Gilly’s face. ‘Bring the twins to me,’ she directed the girl, then get what you need to be on our way. Bird crouched down and engulfed Cami in a great, fierce hug as she came through the door, which was returned in kind. The Hobbit stepped back then, the pleasure of seeing her old friend put aside for the moment, and said gently, ‘Bird, get the children gathered and let’s get out of here.’ Clapping three times, their pre-arranged signal, Bird called out to the little ones to come out from their hiding places. From behind the couch crept Tom, from Dwaling, just turned seven, and little Larkspur, his sister, well into her fifth year. Dirty and ragged, their solemn faces took in the scene before them. They glanced up at Bird, who took their little hands in a familiar way and whispered a few words of reassurance to them, then gave them over to the charge of Ruby. From the rough cupboard that stood against the wall into the other bedroom, came Will, a sturdy eight year old from Budge Ford, crawling out on his hands and knees from the bottom compartment. He pulled himself into a low crouch, ready to run if he got the chance. Bird called his name telling him it was safe now, and to go stand with Ruby and the other two children. Gilly uncovered the basket which held the twins, buried beneath a mound of tattered blankets and cast off clothes waiting to be mended. The babies, sensing danger, had kept quiet, awaiting the return of their mother. They fussed a little as the light from the lantern on the wall hit their eyes. Pio went quickly to them and gathered them close to her. Using one of the thin blankets, she fashioned a sling and put them both in it. They snuggled in, close against the comforting warmth of her body, and she placed her left hand comfortingly against them. ‘Is that all then?’ she asked, gripping her sword once again in her right hand, ‘Then let’s go!’ ‘Wait,’ cried Cami, tugging at her sleeve and pointing to where Merimac sat dejected, his shoulders slumped, on one of the chairs . . . [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-18-2003, 02:11 AM	#70
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	‘I told you I wouldn’t ride one of those ponies!’ came the high, twittering voice of the little jackdaw. Bird had been the last one out the door to the porch, and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Frodo-lad and Buttercup as they held the ponies on the other side of the fence. In a trice she had shed her human form and taken wing. ‘And I said you did not need to, as I recall.’ replied Pio, stopping to wipe off the indelicate gift that accompanied the arrival of the Bird to the crosspiece of her blade’s hilt. ‘Must you do that?’ she grumbled, as the black and white Bird landed now on her wrist, having been displaced as the Elf wiped the white gobbet from the hand that held the sword. ‘Birds do that,’ sniffed the jackdaw, and it seemed as if her little shoulders shrugged. ‘We are not responsible for our bodily functions!’ she humphed, fluffing her feathers and giving them a satisfied shake. All but Cami stood open mouthed as Pio exchanged a few words with her feathered companion. Ruby shook her head in disbelief. Cook will never believe this, she thought to herself. The children, of course, were delighted – their little faces lighting up with wonder. They had always felt beneath Bird’s gruff exterior lurked a quite marvelous creature, and now they knew it to be true. ‘Fly ahead, if you will Bird, and check out the passage for us. We are bound for the angle of the Greenway and the South Downs – Andrath.’ Pio raised her arm upward and with a nod to her, the jackdaw took wing, flying west. ‘Quickly now!’ urged Pio, leading the small group across the yard to the waiting ponies. Cami, holding tight to the hand of little Larkspur, was the last one off the porch, following close behind Merimac with Fosco, and Ruby herding Tom and Will before her. Pio had reached the fence, and climbed through the wide spaced posts, and had just turned round to grab the basket of baby things from Gilly and help her through, when something caught her eye. ~~~~~~~*~ The rest of the group fleeing from the cottage had halted. Larkspur, slipping her hand from Cami’s grip, had run pell mell back to the porch. ‘My dolly!’ she cried, her little legs pumping hard as she sprinted for the open door with Cami in her wake. And there, just leaping on to the porch from the other side, knife in hand, was a nasty looking figure, a wild look in his eyes. ‘Where you goin’, you little Shire rat?!’ he yelled at her, grabbing her roughly by the arm and shaking her. She twisted in his grip, screaming for help, and kicked at him, landing a few solid whacks to his shins. ‘It’s Shifty!’ cried Gilly, pulling away from Pio’s grip. She ran toward the group to meet the three little boys Ruby had pushed toward her, pulling them toward the fence . . . [ July 20, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-20-2003, 03:17 AM	#71
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Child's post: Cami's initial response was governed solely by instinct. Horrified to glimpse the small girl struggling in the grip of a maniacal demon with a dagger, she hurled her body in front of Shifty so that the thug would have to leap over her or knock her out of the way in order to make good his escape. With this split second diversion, Ruby and Merimac had an instant to dash over and position themselves at the rear of the porch. Still reluctant to relinquish his coveted prize, and convinced he had nothing to fear, the rogue crammed the squalling bundle under his left arm and hostilely surveyed the three hobbits who were threatening to cut off his route of escape. Selecting Ruby as his most likely target, he instinctively thrust forward with his dagger, coming within a hair's breadth of the hobbit's shoulder before she adroitly pivotted and doubled back. He came at her a second time with his clenched fists and pummelled her over the edge of the porch. Cami fumbled frantically at the belt about her waist until her fingers gripped the crosspiece of her sword. With a single smooth motion, she unsheathed the blade and drew it before her, darting in and out, vainly searching for a place where she could strike that would not endanger the squirming Larkspur. But except for a few glancing blows to the man's legs, she was unable to do any serious harm. Intending to finish off the other two hobbits and take out his revenge on the child, Shifty hurled Larkspur's body down with a sickening thud, drew out his second dagger, and advanced towards Merimac with blades extended in both hands. Meri tried to parry and, despite the huge disparity in height and weight, matched Shifty stroke for stroke until the hobbit's sword found its mark, leaving a slash in the man's breeches and exposing a gash on his right hip. Beside himself with anger, Shifty hurled his entire weight on top of the smaller hobbit, planning to hammer him into the ground. Without thinking of what she was doing, and, with all the might she possessed, Cami raced forward with her sword outstretched and struck at Shifty. She felt her blade go in easily, skewering the man in the back, as Meri recovered his balance and slipped harmlessly away. Shifty halted in mid-pace, lurched forward to one side and fell to the ground, the sound of his jagged breaths first slowing then replaced by an omenous silence. In the few seconds in which all this had played out, Pio had raced back towards the cottage landing on the porch in a single bound. Running up to Larkspur, she cradled the child in her arms carefully examining her to make sure that she was no more than bruised and dazed. Ruby gave the Elf a weak grin already pulling herself up from the grass and limping off with Merimac back towards the fence. Cami knelt unmoving beside the still body, unwilling or unable to pull out her sword from the ruffian's back. Her face was a mask of conflicting emotions. Relief, confusion, and sadness mingled together as she stared down at the blood that was pooling on the porch. "He never saw me Pio. He never even saw me. I just ran him through the back. But he would have killed Larkspur. I know he would. And I don't understand why he hated us so much...." _____________________________________________ Pio’s post Pio pulled the sword from Shifty’s body and flung it in a high arc toward the burning fields. For a single moment it hung high over the flames, the blade catching the flickering red and orange lights that licked up to claim it. It fell, heavy hilt first into the cloud of smoke and ash, disappearing into darkness. Shifty, she left lying there, he was nothing to her. But she bent down and drew Cami up, pulling her close to her and hurried her from the porch and to the fence with the waiting ponies just beyond. The others were waiting for her there. Merimac led the way with Fosco planted firmly on the saddle before him. Behind him came Frodo-lad, followed by Buttercup with Tom before her, then Ruby holding tight to Will. Gilly was next to last, cradling Larkspur close to her, safe in the folds of her cloak. The little girl whimpered for her dolly as they rode away from the cottage. But Gilly comforted her saying that she would see to making her a new one, and what did she think the new dolly should be called . . . The Elf took Cami up to ride before her. The Hobbit was cold, and she shivered though the night was warm. Pio tied the makeshift sling about her friend and nestled the babies in. Cami’s arms went instinctively around the little ones, and Pio drew her cloak about all of them, holding them all close against her. They rode in silence for a long time, the ponies picking their way carefully through the smoky terrain. At last the air about them grew clearer, and the myriad of stars that grace the summer’s night shone bright again. Cami pushed back the cloak and let the clean breeze wash over her. ‘Why did you throw the sword away, Pio? I may need it again,’ she said, pulling the cloak over the sleeping babies. For a long moment, only the sound of Falmar’s hooves clip clopping on the hard ground answered her. And she thought perhaps the Elf had not heard her question. Pio shifted in the saddle, finding a more comfortable seat. ‘It did not fit your hand, Cami,’ came the soft reply, as the Elf bent her head close to the Hobbit. Cami’s brow furrowed in the darkness. ‘But that was the one we practiced with, you said it fit me fine.’ ‘I was wrong, then wasn’t I. Too blind and stubborn to see your hand was not made for it.’ Pio shook her head at her own foolishness. ‘The sword isn’t your weapon, Cami. Your words and thoughts are. Set down with your pen on paper, they shine out in the darkness. Little beacons, little guides.’ She flexed her right hand, making a fisted grip. ‘The blade is my weapon, the pen and inkwell yours. And against the darkness both are needed.’ They rode on in silence once again, and Pio could feel Cami relax against her, the rhythm of the movement lulling her into a drowsy state. Pio put her left arm around her and held her securely on the saddle. The little brown head nodded as sleep claimed her. Pio bent to kiss her curly mop. ‘What a treasure you are, my friend . . .’ He would never have seen you. she thought to herself, thinking back on what Cami had said on the porch. Not even if you stood before him, in the clear light of day. No, he would never have seen you . . . [ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] [ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-20-2003, 03:19 AM	#72
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Child's post When the warning bell first tolled over the camp, Stoatie pulled himself out of bed and made some feeble efforts to organize the ruffians' defenses. But it was apparent that things weren't going quite the way he'd planned. Peering through the shadows towards the chaos that reigned near the main entry gate, he'd caught a brief glimpse of Mithadan battling his way into the plantation with a contingent of hobbits fighting at his side. His first reaction was disgust and disbelief. What kind of man would aid these miserable pint-sized runts? Certainly no one he knew. But, as the scene about him came into sharper focus, Stoatie acknowledged that Mithadan had not only played a critical role in this attack, but was likely responsible for engineering Ferny's disappearance. Boss had been captured or killed. There was no reason for Stoatie to stay here and die protecting a gang of men who meant absolutely nothing to him. Pulling the edge of his hood over his face, he cautiously threaded his way back over pathways that were congested with combat and bloodshed. With all the tumult going on, he slipped unnoticed into Ferny's lair, kneeling on the floor and desperately fumbling in the dark to uncover the loose floorboard that he knew was there. A few moments of groping alerted him to the spot where the floor wobbled slightly. Stoatie grabbed hold of the end of the board, prying it up with a fireplace poker, and yanked the whole length free. Reaching inside the hole with both hands, he drew out his prize, a heavy locked box with gold and silver coins that Boss had used to pay the men and reimburse merchants for their supplies. Hearing the reassuring jangle of money inside, he tucked the coffer underneath his arm without a second glance and made his way outdoors. He raced to the stables through the growing clouds of smoke and fumes, hastily tossed a saddle over one of the horses and charged headlong out the gate. Stoatie knew exactly where he wanted to go. There was an old hideout for Ferny's men tucked away in the South Downs. He frantically spurred his mount onward, charging through groups of combatants, and jumping over downed hayricks and farm equipment overturned in his path. Once he left the bloodiest part of the melee behind, he continued riding eastward at a hard gallop for a good ten minutes or more until he reached the eastern boundary of the plantation, an area that was uninhabited and framed with fields of pipeweed and scrub vegetation. For some unknown reason, the fences here were higher than those surrounding the rest of the encampment; they towered a good seven feet in the air, strong and sturdily built so that it was impossible for a horse to jump over them or kick them down. Stoatie dug into his pocket pulling out a key to unlock the heavy iron gate, then relocked it securely, speedily riding south and east in the direction of the Downs. [ July 21, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-20-2003, 03:33 AM	#73
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	‘Damnable Elf!’ muttered the jackdaw as she flapped southwards. Already her wings were growing tired and herself irritable as she realized just how wide an area there was to be concerned about between Ferny’s place and Andrath. ‘Always ordering people about without so much as a by-your-leave. Never even asked if I wanted to scout out the route, just assumed I’d do it because she said it needed doing. And for that matter, she assumed I’d know where she meant me to go.’ Bird flew on, in the direction of the South Downs. From there she guessed she’d head west and try to locate the Greenway. She coughed and sneezed, a dangerous thing in mid-flight for a bird. The smoke rising from the burning pipeweed fields made it difficult to breathe, and difficult to see. ‘And that’s another thing!’ she snorted, ticking off another on her list of aggravations from Pio. ‘Here I am flying about in the dark – the *DARK, mind you. What am I supposed to do if one of the night hunters come after me. An owl! A nighthawk!’ Her litany of the rude abuses of friendship continued on as she flew through the dark sky. Soon she left the cloud of drifting smoke and could see more clearly. She cast a wary eye about for any birds of prey, prepared to assume her other winged shape despite the previous warning of Pio. Her little heart thudded faster than usual as she scanned the skies above and to her sides. Nothing! Bird breathed a sigh of relief and cast a glance to the ground below her. ‘What’s this?’ she thought to herself, seeing a lone rider heading south. She watched him as he stopped in a little clearing, and fumbled with something tied at the back of his saddle. His eyes darted round the clearing as he dismounted and went about resecuring the good sized, jingling box he now held in his hands. Dropping lower she perched on the branch of a nearby tree, her interest piqued by the man’s furtive actions and the sounds of clinking issuing from the box. Visions of coins, gold coins, starred her eyes. She ruffled her feathers and chirped at the thought of it. His ears caught the sound and his head whipped round to see who was making it. Bird gasped, nearly losing her grip on the branch. ‘Stoatie!’ That despicable man stood there in the moonlight, looking straight at her. She dropped quickly to the ground, behind the tree shielding her self from his gaze. ‘Naught but a stupid bird, Stoatie,’ she heard him say to himself. ‘Better calm down, man, yer getting too spooked.’ A sudden inspiration flamed up in her mind, and with a satisfied twitter she put it into action. ~~~~~~~~ Imagine his surprise as the woman of his dreams, vile as they might be, came walking . . . no, sauntering . . . out toward him from the cover of the trees. And smiling, invitingly at him . . . never mind that her eyes were hard as glass as she looked him up and down. ‘So ya just couldn’t stay away, eh, lass?’ he crooned to her, smoothing his greasy hair behind his ears with his filthy hands. ‘I’ve got us a little something to keep us comfortable once we get away from these parts, my little dumpling.’ He gave her a lascivious wink, and walked toward her, his arms outstretched, intending to plant a claiming kiss on her luscious lips. ‘Yes,’ he heard her say, in a low and smoky voice. ‘Come to mama, big boy!’ She reached out her arms as he sprinted to cover the distance between them . . . ~~~~~~~~ Imagine his surprise, as his expectant lips met the rough bark of a gnarled willow tree, and the arms he imagined would hold him in their warm clasp, whipped round him like a noose, the thick branches of the tree drawing him tight against the trunk . . . crushing him in an inescapable embrace . . . ~~~~~~~~ And so it was that Bird, who had never wanted to ride a horse in the first place, found herself trotting along on the back of Stoatie’s mount. There was no way around it if she were to bring the strongbox along with her . . . and there was no way she was leaving the coins to be found by others . . . She turned the horse west, hoping she would meet someone to point her toward Andrath. ‘Damnable Elf!’ she muttered to herself, as the horse’s gait jostled her up and down. ‘This never would have happened if she’d stayed in Gondor . . .’ [ July 22, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-21-2003, 02:18 AM	#74
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	Frustrated at not being able to find Stoatie, Mithadan made his way back toward the northern gate. The fields were burning, and Ferny’s men were in a rout. Bullies, at best, they had been deflated by the savage assault of the Hobbits, and leaderless, they had sunk quickly into a state of panic, seeking only to flee. Many had tried at first to put up a defense, and of those, many lay wounded and some dead on the cold ground of the compound. Upon seeing him, Maura made his way to Mithadan’s side. ‘We must have given them enough time to get away with the children. There’s no use in staying any longer – just a greater chance of one of us being killed.’ Rose, her face dark with soot from the fires she and her little band had set, came running up when they saw the two men conferring. ‘We made it as far down as the southern end of the fields,’ she told them. ‘Saw only a few stragglers, and they were heading through to open fencing down there, eastward at a dead run. Looked like many had lost their weapons. And some,’ she laughed, her teeth showing white against her grimed face, ‘some hadn’t even bothered to pull on their boots or belts as they went running, holding their breeches up with their hands and hoping madly from foot to foot.’ ‘Let’s round everyone one up then, and make our way to the meeting place,' said Mithadan, leaning on his sword, his face drawn and tired appearing. 'Rose take a head count of your group, and the both of you gather up the extra Shirelings we brought. I’ll get Halfred and his crew together. We’ll meet you just outside the north gate.’ An hour later, the last of the Shire band made it to where the others waited with the ponies. None of the Shirelings or Greenwood contingent had sustained any major injuries, just minor scrapes, and contusions, and the occasional cut whose flow had been stanched by a hastily tied piece of cloth. Minto and Milo Boffin, were the very last to appear, with their brother Moro supported between them, limping. ‘Tripped over a small barrel in the dark,’ he explained, seeing the others looking at him. Minto chuckled, an incongruent sound after the grimness of their business this night. ‘Yes, and he stinks, too,’ he laughed, holding his nose. ‘Fell onto the barrel and stove it in, he did. Reeks of soured ale now!’ Rose snorted, catching the scent of him on the night’s breeze. She started to giggle, the stress of the battle bubbling out in this lighter manner. The infectious laughter rippled around the group, growing louder as each Hobbit joined in. Mithadan, himself chuckled, nodding his head in appreciation at the ingrained ability of Hobbits to pick a more positive side to a such a dark encounter as they had just gone through. ‘Let’s mount up then,’ he said, once the group had regained its composure. ‘We have a number of hours of riding yet to go before we meet up with the rest of our group.’ Mithadan’s gaze slid to where Moro was being pushed into the saddle by his brothers. His eyes glinted mischievously in the waning moonlight. ‘And you three,’ he called out, catching their attention as the last of them settled himself on his mount, ‘you ride at the rear, downwind of us!’ Minto and Milo looked at each other, and rode slightly ahead of their scented sibling. ‘Rear guard,’ they called back to him, ‘very important position for a man of your . . . umm . . . capability.’ ‘Hmmph!!’ came the curt response. [ July 24, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ] __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-28-2003, 03:32 AM	#75
piosenniel Desultory Dwimmerlaik Join Date: Mar 2002 Location: Pickin' flowers with Bill the Cat..... Posts: 7,779	It was twenty miles from the southern border of Ferny’s plantation to Andrath where the Greenway climbed through the long divide of the South Downs and made its way to The Great East Road. The ponies the Hobbits had brought with them were already tired from their hastened journey from the Shire to Ferny’s place, and their pace was slow. Merimac still led the way for the little group that had rescued the children with Fosco held close, drowsing now against his chest. And Pio plodded along at the end of the weary line, starting to feel a certain drowsiness herself. At the top of the Downs she called a brief halt. There was a small, clear stream nearby, and the party refreshed themselves with its cold, sweet waters, slaking their thirst from the long ride and washing their faces of the soot and grime that had drifted their way as the fields burned. Cami knelt at the stream’s side and scrubbed her hands in the frigid waters, rubbing them until they were red, and nearly raw. Shifty’s blood had come off in the first washing, but still they felt unclean. It was not until Pio sent Ruby to lead her back to the group that she looked up from her hands remembering where she was. A short rest later, a small snack from their meager supply of food to hold back the pangs of hunger, and they were mounting up once again, heading down to the Greenway. It was midmorning when they found the clearing where they would await Mithadan and the other Shire folk. ~~~~~~~~ Frodo-lad was the first to see the others as they rode in, their mounts moving slowly down from the hilly uplands in a long straggly line. He gave an excited shout, and stood pointing to where the first of the ponies had picked its way down to the grasslands where the clearing lay. ‘It’s my Da!’ he cried, mounting up on his pony, and heading at as fast a pace as the pony could muster, urged on by the nudging of the young lad’s heels against his flanks. Soon they had ridden in together and dismounted, Frodo-lad grinning from ear to ear as Sam ruffled his hair. Others from the group that had ridden with Pio came running to hold the reins of the arriving horses as their riders climbed down wearily from their saddles. Greetings, and hugs, and questions flew, each group wanting to know how the other fared and what had gone on with them. Mithadan was the last to ride in. He paused for a moment at the edge of the clearing, his eyes searching through the throng for the ones he sought. Pio stood up from where she sat, the babies in her arms, and watched him as he walked toward her. ~~~~~~~~ ‘Look, Father!’ Frodo-lad and Sam stood a little apart from the others, content in each others company, when they boy caught sight of Mithadan, pointing him out as he made his way to his family. Sam chuckled a bit, catching young Frodo by surprise. ‘Why are you laughing?’ he asked his father, a frown on his face. ‘It’s not like the old stories is it, son?’ he said watching the dusty, begrimed Man walk toward the Elf in her wayworn garb. ‘He would have been clad in some shining raiment, his face clean and handsome, his grey eyes flashing as he gazed on her. He would have move toward her with a certain measure of grace in his step.’ Sam’s eyes took in the Elf, and smiled again. ‘And she would be beautiful and fair, her shining hair bound back by some Elven fillet. Clothed in a gown of silver and white, she would have smiled at him, her eyes filled with a clear light, her laughter filling the air like music as he took her in his arms.’ Frodo-lad watched as Mithadan drew near to Piosenniel. Her eyes were on him, and he smiled at her, murmuring some words, then bent and kissed her lightly on the brow. His hand came up to trace the line of her jaw, then dropped to touch each of his children on their cheeks. Their little mouths turned toward his touch, seeking the source of it. He laughed in delight as their grey eyes met his, and he nestled them in his arms, speaking softly to them. Sam pulled his son in closer against his side. ‘Old stories aside, this turned out just the way it should don’t you think, son?’ Before the boy could give an answer one way or the other, the sound of a horse galloping in at a quick pace caught their attention, and for a moment Sam’s hand went to his blade, thinking that someone might have followed them, meaning to get revenge. His fears were laid to rest as Bird rode into view, her dark hair flying as Stoatie’s horse took the bit in his teeth and made for the sweet grass of the clearing. She slid off her unruly mount when he came to a halt, and laying her eyes on the happy family strode over to greet them. ‘So, these are the offspring, eh?’ she said, scooping the girl from her father’s arm. ‘Got a name yet, kid?’ Bird asked, looking close at the baby’s face with a critical eye. Her nose crinkled, and she drew back her head, handing the baby to Pio. ‘Here, uhm, Mom. You take her – I think she’s sprung a leak . . .’ __________________ Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.

07-29-2003, 05:34 PM	#76
*Mithadan* Spirit of Mist Join Date: Jul 2000 Location: Tol Eressea Posts: 3,381	Piosenniel took the bundled baby with a laugh. "Doesn't Auntie Bird want to change her after helping care for her the past few days?" she teased. Mithadan, however, approached the horse that had carried Bird into the clearing. After examining it for a moment, he turned to the shapechanger with raised eyebrows. "Stoat?" he asked. Bird smiled grimly. "He's been...squeezed out of the picture. You needn't concern yourself with him. He'll never trouble The Shire again." Mithadan nodded with satisfaction. Then his attention turned to the strongbox tied to the horse's saddle. "And what have we here?" he asked. Bird turned red and stammered. "Uh...nothing. Just something I happened to pick up in my travels." Mithadan placed a hand on the side of the box and gave it a quick shake. A jingling noise came as its contents shifted. He gave a quiet laugh and looked sidewise at Piosenniel who smiled as well. With a nod, he turned to Bird and opened his arms wide and bowed. "Why Bird," he said. "It seems that you're twice a hero. First, for helping rescue the children and second for seizing Ferny's ill-gotten profits so that they can be distributed fairly!" "What!" answered Bird. "Wait a minute! Distributed? Fairly? What does that mean?" Mithadan waved Sam over to hear his words. "Surely the parents of the kidnapped Hobbits deserve some compensation. And the village of Bree will have some cleaning up to do after our raid. Surely Bree should receive some payment for that. It seems to me that Sam, as the Mayor, should see to the proper distribution of Ferny's money." Sam took Bird's hand, which seemed suspiciously limp, and shook it vigorously. "Thank you, Bird!" he cried. "I'm sure that this can be put to good use!" Bird ground her teeth and glared darkly at Mithadan. "Yes," she growled. "It should be put to good use." Mithadan took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. "There you go!" he said loudly. Then he whispered so that no others could hear, "Your share of the profits from the last voyage of the Lonely Star awaits you in Gondor; enough gold to last you for some time even if you spend it freely...partner." She perked up a bit at this, but gave Mithadan a none too gentle shove towards Piosenniel. "I'll remember this, 'Mithy'," she said. "And get your hands off me and put them where they belong. Pio, give this rogue a diaper. Its time he started acting like a responsible daddy." __________________ Beleriand, Beleriand, the borders of the Elven-land.

07-30-2003, 11:04 PM	#77
Child of the 7th Age Spirit of the Lonely Star Join Date: Mar 2002 Posts: 5,133	After the two parties managed to join up at the designated spot, Cami's spirits revived as the company pushed westward under the bright rays of the mid-day sun. She encouraged her pony to trot alongside Maura's and chatted about this and that, pointing out some of the landmarks on the route as they continued their trek towards the Shire. Cami became increasingly subdued as the Barrow-downs gave way to the rugged weald of Buckland, the territory where she and her mother had lived and worked so many years ago. As the roadway skirted along Buckland's northern border, she strained her eyes towards the Baranduin, its muddied waters bringing unexpected memories of the twisting maze of Brandybuck Hall and the cheerful hijinks of the families who resided there. An irrisistable urge assailed her to run off with Maura and leave both Tol Fuin and Greenwood behind, hiding amid the timbered hillsides of Buckland or even in the tangled groves of the Old Forest. Tightening and relaxing her grip on the reins, she grimly brought herself back to reality. There's no time. Maura and I have no time for Buckland or anywhere else. I am wed, and the twins have been rescued. Lorien can glimpse even the depths of the Old Forest and would never permit us to stay even if the trees tolerated our presence. In any case, I would not desert my children. Cami strained uncomfortably in her saddle, her troubled thoughts again turning back to the problems that awaited her upon returning to the community from which she had come. What Pio says is true. I am ill suited to bear a weapon. Greenwood is not the Shire, and there will be no Mithadan or Pio or Maura to shield me with their sword. Surely, Gandalf could have found a better protector for the hobbits of Numenor. Bone tired and discouraged, Cami said little for the remainder of the afternoon as her mount plodded forward; her thoughts and dreams remained locked tight inside even when Maura tried to coax them out. Despite their success in subduing the ruffians and the deep satisfaction of securing the childrens' release, the others in the company soon found their own footsteps lagging. Too tired to push on any further, the band camped that evening near the Bridge of Stonebows nestling down into several mounds of hay lent to them by a friendly farmer whose homestead was not far from the spot where the old Bridge Inn used to stand. Rising early in the morning to share a hearty breakfast with the farmer's family, they'd remounted their ponies and jogged westward at a leisurely pace. As they trotted along the road, they were surprised to discover groups of local folk coming out to meet them with friendly waves and gestures. The tale of their exploits, recounted in a much embellished form, had somehow swept the countryside and already gained them a number of admirers. Cami felt her flagging spirits rise as young hobbits came scampering down with their parents tagging behind, each of them bearing gifts of fruit or flowers. Within two hours of leaving the bridge, the band arrived at Whitfurrows where the local mayor and other prominent residents awaited them, presenting Halfred with a suitably engraved plaque commending him for his foresight and astuteness in urging the assault against Ferny and Stoatie. Embellishing his speech with bucketfuls of florid prose, the Shirriff of Hobbiton and Bywater cheerfully responded, accepting the award without mentioning any of the help he'd gotten from the Big Folk. Her face red with embarassment, Cami peeped over towards Piosenniel and helplessly shrugged her shoulders, wishing that she could reach out and insert a plug in Halfred's mouth. The finest moment of the day came shortly afterwards when Cotman and Lavinia of Budge Ford stepped forward to claim their dear son Will. Tears streamed down the parents' faces as they went round the circle and shook hands with all the rescuers, making a special point to thank Mithadan and Bird, then stopping to coo over Piosenniel and the twins. Just as the band were about to head out on the Great East Road, Pio spied a small distant figure mounted on a pony who was galloping hard towards them and gesturing frantically in the air. Excited cries of "Da! We're here." soon went up from little Larkspur and her brother Tom as they spied their father who'd managed to come all the way down from Dwaling once he'd heard about the childrens' release. A few moments later, after handshakes and tears all around, the band again headed west, picking up their speed in order to make up for the extra time. It was early evening by the time Cami spied the sign of the Green Dragon. The band quickly broke up, with each member returning to their own family and place of residence. Cami dragged herself up the hallway of the Inn while Maura asked Cook if she could find them a room for the night since their own burrow had been totally destroyed. Too tired to know how she felt about anything, Cami dragged herself into bed and almost instantly fell into a deep slumber. __________________ Multitasking women are never too busy to vote.