The four boys were awakened at daybreak by Mrs. Attmeade come to stir up the fire. She ordered them to roll up their pallets and then into the small bedroom to dress. By the time they emerged the trestle table was up and spread with a hardy breakfast - which nobody seemed much interested in eating, all appetites quite killed by excitement.
The children, including Annie and Celia, kept darting to the windows, cup or scone clutched in one hand, to look eagerly out at the already lively fair ground. Finally Mrs. Attmeade surrendered. "Oh very well, get on with you. But if you're hungry later don't blame me!"
"Perhaps they could take something with them." Mother suggested. She sliced bread and ham and packed it in baskets with little pots of butter and honey. Then gave one each to Annie, Daisy and Meleth.
"Now remember, be back here for lunch at noon sharp." Mrs. Attmeade instructed her children, and handed the older girls two copper coins each and the younger children one apiece for spending money.
The fair ground was, in its way, as colorful a spectacle as the hosting of Rivendell but much noisier. Angle farmers displayed their produce in market stalls side by side with local craftsmen offering their wares in wooden booths or brightly colored tents. But there were also traders from Bree, Men and Hobbits both, dealing in Shire pipeweed, painted woodenware and pewterware and other goods. There werer Blue Mountain Dwarves selling ironmongery, bronzework and ornaments of gold and silver. And short, swart Men from the south offering honey and meade, wool and hides, wine and fine glassware. Crowds of buyers moved slowly between the booths inspecting the goods, bargaining and gossiping: Brown haired Men of Eriador, dark Dunlendings, heavily bearded Dwarves and curly headed Hobbits. And here and there a Ranger; tall, dark and grim with pale, piercing eyes. Neither buying nor selling, but watching and listening carefully the news and gossip.
It was all a bit overwhelming to children used to the serenity of Rivendell. They clung close to Mother and Nuneth as they wove their way between the early morning shoppers to the Valley tent, towering above its neighbors. The blue and silver streamers tipping its poles fluttering in the morning breeze. The Attmeade children, not in the least overwhelmed, followed along too.
Celia and Annie promptly joined a huddle of other girls oohing and aahing over the the selection of silks and gauzes, velvets and brocades. There were also a number of older Women fingering the more practical woolens and linens, including Mrs. Cobbold. Her daughter Lori, bright pink with excitement, watched as Glewellin wrapped a bolt of finespun wool the color of new beech leaves in a length of unbleached linen and offered him a handful of coins in return.
He took the silver piece and two of the coppers then closed her hand over the remaining three. "Something left to buy yourself a pretty gaud to go with your new dress." he smiled. Lori danced happily away clutching her treasure, and her mother caught Glewellin's eye shaking her head in mock reproach. "Now, Alys," he protested, "surely you wouldn't have me leave the poor child without a copper to spend for all the rest of the fair?"
She turned to Gilraen. "And how much does that soft heart of his lose you in profits, I wonder?"
"Not enough to matter I'm sure." Mother answered.
"Indeed not." Glewellin twinkled at them both. "I make up for any such small losses by asking a bit more from the large dealers who can well afford it!"
Oswald, Daisy and Dickon made straight for the boxes of candied fruit, conferring in hissing whispers for some minutes before Dickon finally handed his coin over to an Elf and tucked the box under his arm. Then the three of them headed for the door.
"Coming?" Oswald asked Estel.
"Yes." he decided.
"Wait!" Glewellin took three copper coins from the money box and distributed them to the children, "can't really enjoy the fair without a bit of spending money."
The children looked uncertainly at the coins in their hands, having never used or so much as seen money before. Thanked him dutifully and followed the young Attmeades out into the cheerful hurley-burley of the fair ground.