High, heavily forested hills gave way to a gently rolling patchwork of hedgerowed fields and well kept coppices dotted with rambling thatch roofed farmhouses and small villages. The cart track became a graveled road with walkers and riders and carts and pack ponies flowing in from every branching path. The traffic was soon so heavy that the children had to be lifted up onto the lead cart to prevent them from getting lost or trampled.

Just before noon they began passing houses built alongside the road. Only a few at first, and widely spaced. Then more in close rows with lanes between them showing more houses behind. The buildings looked odd to the children's eyes, but pretty, with black timbers making patterns against white plaster walls. The larger houses had tile roofs instead of thatch, and their windows were glazed with dozens of diamond shaped panes.

Close on to two o'clock they reached their first town. The road forked, one branch heading south-west and the other due east, and there was a big cobblestone market square on the west side, bordered by little shops and more houses. And on the east side was a very large and grand building, some three stories tall and built around a central court, with a carved and painted sign swinging above the porch showing a Y shaped cross, white on green, with the words 'Crossroad Inn' above and 'Toby and Melinda Griffon' beneath.

The lead cart stopped under the sign and the children were lifted down. Gilraen took Estel's hand and Nuneth Amin and Meleth's and all five of them went up the three tall steps of the porch and through the big arched door into a wide hall smelling of baked bread, roast meat and woodsmoke. Long benches flanking a brightly burning fire on one side, and there was a tall wooden counter on the other with an open doorway beyond and a stairway winding upward at the far end.

A number of people were sitting on the benches or standing in groups talking. Mother and Nuneth led the chilren between them and through the doorway into a large room beyond. Its low raftered ceiling was upheld by wooden posts and it was full of tables, each and every one of which seemed full of Men and Women talking and eating. Still more people walked between, cup and plate in hand, looking for a place to sit, and all filled the air with a cheerful noise of voices and the clinking of cups and plates. The children just stared. The great hall of Rivendell, even at its noisiest and most crowded, was never like this!

Still holding Estel firmly by the hand Mother plunged right in, making her way, with many a murmured 'Excuse me' and 'I beg your pardon', to a half empty table against the wall. The children were sat firmly on the bench and ordered not to move, then Mother and Nuneth both vanished into the crowd.

The other end of their table was occupied by a family: A neat dark haired mother and a father with rough red hair and beard; two girls, Berya's age or older, also dark and prim; a tiny girl eating a slice of bread and sugar next to an even tinier boy pounding happily on the table with a big pewter spoon. Just across the table from the children were two red headed boys and a girl about their own ages absorbed in some kind of board game.

Suddenly the older boy looked up and saw them staring. "What are you looking at?" he demanded with a fierce frown.

"That game you're playing," Estel answered quickly, and not altogether honestly, "I've never seen it before."

Now it was the other boy's turn to stare. "You've never played Capture the Hare?"

Estel, Amin and Meleth all shook their heads. Disarmed by this astonishing ignorance the boy pushed the board to the center of the table and explained the rules. One player controlled the bright red piece, the Hare, and his opponents the dozen white pieces and that the object was to hem the Hare in so he couldn't escape but since the red piece could hop right over the white and capture them this wasn't as easy has it might seem.

The three strange children finished their game, by way of demonstration, and they'd just begun a new one pitting the older boy against Estel and Amin when Mother and Nuneth returned balancing full trays and they were forced to put the board aside. The food was as unfamiliar as everything else; brown bread and cheese, bowls of stew and mugs of cider. But the children barely noticed, being much more interested in their new friends.

The older boy's name was Oswald Attmeade and he was twelve years old. His sister was Daisy and she was ten, and his brother Dickon was eight. They, along with their mother and father, sisters and baby brother, were also on their way to the Hoarwelling fair - as was practically everybody else in the room - but as buyers not sellers.

Estel introduced himself as Errol and his sister and brother as Melly and Amund and went on to say they were from the Weaver's valley north of the Trollshaws.

Oswald was deeply impressed. "You mean you came through the forest? Did you see any Trolls?" Estel was forced to admit they had not. His new friend was most disappointed. "But the forest is supposed to be full of Trolls, and ghosts, and all kinds of monsters!"

"Oswald, that is superstitious nonsense." Mrs. Attmeade said firmly from the end of the table. "The forest is quite dangerous enough, what with outlaws and wild animals, without imagining ghosts and Trolls. You know I don't believe in such things."

Estel, whose own grandfather had been killed by Stone Trolls, opened his mouth to object, caught a stern look from Gilraen and changed what he'd been about to say. "We didn't see any Trolls, or ghosts or monsters. Sorry."

After lunch Mother, Nuneth and the children went out a back door, across the innyard and through the opposite wing to a wide green field full of carts and picketed horses and ponies, where they found the Elves drinking ale and chatting familiarly with some of other traders. Bregolas was nearby, conferring quietly with four other Rangers, who gave the children inscrutable looks as they approached, before melting silently into the crowd.

"Bregolas," Estel asked quietly, "how can anybody not believe in Trolls?"

He smiled almost imperceptibly. "You will find, Dunadan, that many of the country people do not. And they have their doubts about Goblins and Wraiths and other such things too. It means we Rangers are doing our job very well indeed."

--

NOTES:

Hound and Hare is based on an actual medieval board game, as no doubt many of you know.