Chapter 5
Who is Watching Buckland
The pensiveness and gloom that came from those that remained in the Grand Hall cast darkness over the brilliance of the flowers and candles. Gone was their laughter and lightheartedness of what they were supposed to be celebrating. Everyone felt it as they lingered, huddled into small groups and whispering to each other. Small echoes of weeping and consoling drifted in and around the grand banners, flags and flowers. Even the fiddler players where putting their instruments away in their cases and quietly exiting the hall.
A small lad rested his cheek against the coolness of the stone floor at the feet of his mother who wept in his grandparent's arms. Rolling onto his back he scooted himself under the bench to find a dark, secret hideaway from all the tears that surrounded him.
Minutes ticked away in the dark playground, while little Faramir began to thump his feet against the underneath wooden seat above him. Esmeralda and Saradoc came over to the Tooks to speak with them. Paladin was the first to stand to greet his oldest friend.
"There is always someone to take the joy out of something," he said. "Is there any idea who is behind all of this?"
"No, Paladin, not a clue as far as I can tell," said Saradoc.
Esmeralda took Diamond's hand and gently patted it to comfort the distraught lass. Eglantine felt another bump coming from under her seat and she bent down to see two small feet that just dropped to the floor. "Faramir, why don't you go play with the other small lads over there, while we visit with your mother?"
The lad scooted himself out from under the bench to face his grandmother. "I don't want to play with them? When is Da, coming back?"
Eglantine looked up at Esmeralda, both knowing there was not an answer for the lad. Seeing that Diamond needed her family more and thinking about her own new daughter-in-law, Esmeralda had an idea to help them. "Faramir, would you like to come with me and find Estella, I think she is in her room."
His eyes lit up and darted to his feet. The beaming smile and bright sparkle in his eyes gave her the answer to her question. Taking his small, little hand, the two walked out of the Grand Hall and down the long corridor to the door with the newest engraved names upon it.
Faramir let go of Esmeralda's hand and bolted away from her when she pointed out the door to the lad. In his excitement to see Estella, he grasped the door handle and opened it, and bounced inside. Esmeralda dashed quickly trying to catch up to him. Rushing into the open door and the terrifying sight of what was inside, she clutched the small child to her side.
XXX
"Ouch, that hurts!" whined Tom flinching with each dab from the wet cloth that Hatty used to clean out the open wound upon the side of his head.
"I'm sorry for that, Tom, but it needs cleaning or it will become worse. A few more dabs and it'll be as good as it can be."
Tom held the rolled up bandage in his hand while he waited for Hatty to finish.
Around and around she wrapped the bandage upon his head. "You'd do better for yourself, Tom, if you rested in your bed for a time. You've taken a nasty hit upon your head."
Tom raised his stubborn eyes and wrinkled his brow towards the old cook. "No, Hatty! I made a promise to Master Merry, and a promise is just that, no matter what. He told me his trust in me of watching little Shimmering 'ere and that's what I'll be a doing!"
Tom picked up his pitchfork and held it straight up as if it was a kingly sword.
Hatty stood back and a smile crossed her dear lips. "Now Tom, really, both of us know that it's not in your heart to go whacking another, even when it's called upon to do so. You have too much of a kindly heart, Tom."
He looked at the old cook in defeat since she knew him all too well. "Maybe so, but they'll not be knowin' that!" He stuck his chin up in a proudly manner.
Hatty shifted her eyes to the soft hay-mounds behind him. "Rest yourself when you can, lad. It will not do Shimmering any good if you make yourself sick."
She emptied the blood-infused water in her basin upon the dirt floor of the stable and gathered her herbal medicines. Putting them into her basket, she turned and walked back to Brandy Hall.
XXX
The pony's hooves parted the tall grass that they tread upon, while their long tails swished behind them. The green, lush, open fields and foothill of the High Hay area were behind them while they turned their ponies closer to Crickhallow. The foothills grew in numbers as the riders went up one hill only to find another just behind it. Sheerimac pranced with her hooves upon the ground and let out a loud neighing sound. Even the pony felt the mounting tension from his master and the riders around him. Snorting, Sheerimac wanted to kick up his front feet, but Merry would not allow it. Reining the young pony in to control him, he nudged Sheerimac onward. His hooves hit the ground wanting to run, but the tightness of bridle kept him from it. Downward pranced the pony from the hill and then up again onto the next. Topping the hill, Merry caught a glimpse of an elderly hobbit with three lads making their way through the foothills. Two lads carried a thick rope slung over their shoulders and by the looks of them and their clothing, they were counted among the poorest. Their pants legs were ragged and their waistcoats almost fiber-thin that matched the thinnest of their arms, legs and bellies. The elderly hobbit wore a hat upon his white-gray hair and a pipe clenched tightly between his blackened teeth.
They seemed startled and huddling closer together to await the ponies and riders that rushed towards them. Just as Merry had seen the Rohirrim encircling their prey, so did they. The riders came on all sides of the four travelers and pressed them closer together. The lads surrounded their father from the intrusive hobbits and their ponies.
"Ya got bread fer brains! A scarin' a good folk from their wits!" snapped the elderly hobbit with his pipe set between his teeth and talking from the side of his mouth. "Ain't doin' a thin', but takin' me lads down a path fer a fishin' dat Brandywine waters, is all!"
Merry leaned over his saddle to get a better look of the lads that stood before him. "Begging your pardon, old gaffer and lads, but I've not seen you around these foothills before."
"I've hailed ya 'afore, but we've never shook, young master!" commented the elderly hobbit pulling his brim of his hat down closer to his eyes to keep the glare from the sun stinging his old eyes.
Merry dismounted and approached the elderly hobbit, holding out his hand and shook it. "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, from Brandy Hall on the slopes of Buck Hill near Buckleberry."
"I've known 'o ya, Master Meriadoc," he commented. "These 'ere are me own lads, 'his stout lad 'ere is me son, Till. Dat one over there is Wilmore, called dee, 'Digger', and me youngest boy 'ere, is just plain 'ol Sheffield. They call me, Dougal. We're trench diggers fer da Broadbelts, at yer service, young master!"
The Bucklander's lads with Merry curled up their noses and pulled their ponies back a few paces. The scalawags in front of them that were trench diggers that dug new privies in the communities of the Shire and were looked upon as the lowest of all hobbits. Merry flinched at hearing what they did for a living and looked at his hand that the old gaffer had just shook. Slowly he placed his hand behind him and tried to wipe off the grim on his backside.
"We're looking for a white mare like the one, I'm riding. We think she was taken from Brandy Hall. Have you seen any sign of a pony like I've spoken about?"
The elder hobbit puffed his pipe and let out a cloud of smoke that whirled around the top of his hat. Slowly the old gaffer shook his head, "I can't say dat I've seen a pony, except fer the ones you've gotta 'ere!"
"Fair enough," commented Merry and he nodded his head slightly to the elder hobbit and climbed upon his pony. Nodding again to the three lads, they turned their ponies around and began their search again.
XXX
The look of horror and warning upon Estella's face was frightening to Esmeralda trying to comes to terms with what she saw before her.
Her new daughter-in-law stood in the center of the room with a gag upon her mouth and her hands tightly bound. Tulsi jumped back away from her captive with wide-eyed expression of surprise at seeing the mistress of Brandy Hall and the young child nestled protectively by her side.
The lass's eyes snapped towards the adjoining room's door and then back again to the mistress. Rushing passed them she slammed the front door shut so no other would intrude upon them.
"Tulsi, have you lost your mind!" shouted Esmeralda in a firm voice of authority.
A dark shadowed figure slowly emerged from the other room and walked slowly towards them. The sword glimmering in the light coming from the small rounded window before the dark-shadowy one behind it came into view.
Esmeralda covered her mouth to stop the scream from escaping.
Who is Watching Buckland
The pensiveness and gloom that came from those that remained in the Grand Hall cast darkness over the brilliance of the flowers and candles. Gone was their laughter and lightheartedness of what they were supposed to be celebrating. Everyone felt it as they lingered, huddled into small groups and whispering to each other. Small echoes of weeping and consoling drifted in and around the grand banners, flags and flowers. Even the fiddler players where putting their instruments away in their cases and quietly exiting the hall.
A small lad rested his cheek against the coolness of the stone floor at the feet of his mother who wept in his grandparent's arms. Rolling onto his back he scooted himself under the bench to find a dark, secret hideaway from all the tears that surrounded him.
Minutes ticked away in the dark playground, while little Faramir began to thump his feet against the underneath wooden seat above him. Esmeralda and Saradoc came over to the Tooks to speak with them. Paladin was the first to stand to greet his oldest friend.
"There is always someone to take the joy out of something," he said. "Is there any idea who is behind all of this?"
"No, Paladin, not a clue as far as I can tell," said Saradoc.
Esmeralda took Diamond's hand and gently patted it to comfort the distraught lass. Eglantine felt another bump coming from under her seat and she bent down to see two small feet that just dropped to the floor. "Faramir, why don't you go play with the other small lads over there, while we visit with your mother?"
The lad scooted himself out from under the bench to face his grandmother. "I don't want to play with them? When is Da, coming back?"
Eglantine looked up at Esmeralda, both knowing there was not an answer for the lad. Seeing that Diamond needed her family more and thinking about her own new daughter-in-law, Esmeralda had an idea to help them. "Faramir, would you like to come with me and find Estella, I think she is in her room."
His eyes lit up and darted to his feet. The beaming smile and bright sparkle in his eyes gave her the answer to her question. Taking his small, little hand, the two walked out of the Grand Hall and down the long corridor to the door with the newest engraved names upon it.
Faramir let go of Esmeralda's hand and bolted away from her when she pointed out the door to the lad. In his excitement to see Estella, he grasped the door handle and opened it, and bounced inside. Esmeralda dashed quickly trying to catch up to him. Rushing into the open door and the terrifying sight of what was inside, she clutched the small child to her side.
XXX
"Ouch, that hurts!" whined Tom flinching with each dab from the wet cloth that Hatty used to clean out the open wound upon the side of his head.
"I'm sorry for that, Tom, but it needs cleaning or it will become worse. A few more dabs and it'll be as good as it can be."
Tom held the rolled up bandage in his hand while he waited for Hatty to finish.
Around and around she wrapped the bandage upon his head. "You'd do better for yourself, Tom, if you rested in your bed for a time. You've taken a nasty hit upon your head."
Tom raised his stubborn eyes and wrinkled his brow towards the old cook. "No, Hatty! I made a promise to Master Merry, and a promise is just that, no matter what. He told me his trust in me of watching little Shimmering 'ere and that's what I'll be a doing!"
Tom picked up his pitchfork and held it straight up as if it was a kingly sword.
Hatty stood back and a smile crossed her dear lips. "Now Tom, really, both of us know that it's not in your heart to go whacking another, even when it's called upon to do so. You have too much of a kindly heart, Tom."
He looked at the old cook in defeat since she knew him all too well. "Maybe so, but they'll not be knowin' that!" He stuck his chin up in a proudly manner.
Hatty shifted her eyes to the soft hay-mounds behind him. "Rest yourself when you can, lad. It will not do Shimmering any good if you make yourself sick."
She emptied the blood-infused water in her basin upon the dirt floor of the stable and gathered her herbal medicines. Putting them into her basket, she turned and walked back to Brandy Hall.
XXX
The pony's hooves parted the tall grass that they tread upon, while their long tails swished behind them. The green, lush, open fields and foothill of the High Hay area were behind them while they turned their ponies closer to Crickhallow. The foothills grew in numbers as the riders went up one hill only to find another just behind it. Sheerimac pranced with her hooves upon the ground and let out a loud neighing sound. Even the pony felt the mounting tension from his master and the riders around him. Snorting, Sheerimac wanted to kick up his front feet, but Merry would not allow it. Reining the young pony in to control him, he nudged Sheerimac onward. His hooves hit the ground wanting to run, but the tightness of bridle kept him from it. Downward pranced the pony from the hill and then up again onto the next. Topping the hill, Merry caught a glimpse of an elderly hobbit with three lads making their way through the foothills. Two lads carried a thick rope slung over their shoulders and by the looks of them and their clothing, they were counted among the poorest. Their pants legs were ragged and their waistcoats almost fiber-thin that matched the thinnest of their arms, legs and bellies. The elderly hobbit wore a hat upon his white-gray hair and a pipe clenched tightly between his blackened teeth.
They seemed startled and huddling closer together to await the ponies and riders that rushed towards them. Just as Merry had seen the Rohirrim encircling their prey, so did they. The riders came on all sides of the four travelers and pressed them closer together. The lads surrounded their father from the intrusive hobbits and their ponies.
"Ya got bread fer brains! A scarin' a good folk from their wits!" snapped the elderly hobbit with his pipe set between his teeth and talking from the side of his mouth. "Ain't doin' a thin', but takin' me lads down a path fer a fishin' dat Brandywine waters, is all!"
Merry leaned over his saddle to get a better look of the lads that stood before him. "Begging your pardon, old gaffer and lads, but I've not seen you around these foothills before."
"I've hailed ya 'afore, but we've never shook, young master!" commented the elderly hobbit pulling his brim of his hat down closer to his eyes to keep the glare from the sun stinging his old eyes.
Merry dismounted and approached the elderly hobbit, holding out his hand and shook it. "My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck, from Brandy Hall on the slopes of Buck Hill near Buckleberry."
"I've known 'o ya, Master Meriadoc," he commented. "These 'ere are me own lads, 'his stout lad 'ere is me son, Till. Dat one over there is Wilmore, called dee, 'Digger', and me youngest boy 'ere, is just plain 'ol Sheffield. They call me, Dougal. We're trench diggers fer da Broadbelts, at yer service, young master!"
The Bucklander's lads with Merry curled up their noses and pulled their ponies back a few paces. The scalawags in front of them that were trench diggers that dug new privies in the communities of the Shire and were looked upon as the lowest of all hobbits. Merry flinched at hearing what they did for a living and looked at his hand that the old gaffer had just shook. Slowly he placed his hand behind him and tried to wipe off the grim on his backside.
"We're looking for a white mare like the one, I'm riding. We think she was taken from Brandy Hall. Have you seen any sign of a pony like I've spoken about?"
The elder hobbit puffed his pipe and let out a cloud of smoke that whirled around the top of his hat. Slowly the old gaffer shook his head, "I can't say dat I've seen a pony, except fer the ones you've gotta 'ere!"
"Fair enough," commented Merry and he nodded his head slightly to the elder hobbit and climbed upon his pony. Nodding again to the three lads, they turned their ponies around and began their search again.
XXX
The look of horror and warning upon Estella's face was frightening to Esmeralda trying to comes to terms with what she saw before her.
Her new daughter-in-law stood in the center of the room with a gag upon her mouth and her hands tightly bound. Tulsi jumped back away from her captive with wide-eyed expression of surprise at seeing the mistress of Brandy Hall and the young child nestled protectively by her side.
The lass's eyes snapped towards the adjoining room's door and then back again to the mistress. Rushing passed them she slammed the front door shut so no other would intrude upon them.
"Tulsi, have you lost your mind!" shouted Esmeralda in a firm voice of authority.
A dark shadowed figure slowly emerged from the other room and walked slowly towards them. The sword glimmering in the light coming from the small rounded window before the dark-shadowy one behind it came into view.
Esmeralda covered her mouth to stop the scream from escaping.