Chapter 2

In the Hills of Buckland

Stacks of small dresses and tiny trousers and rows of folded diapers lay on the table before her. She stooped yet again to gather another armful from the laundry basket of children's clothes to be folded. Before she could fold the small cotton shirt, she felt a tug upon her skirt. Looking down, she saw 5 year old Emmy with a full head of brown curls and chubby pink cheeks. Her soft, big, brown eyes looked up at her pleadingly that were beginning to fill with thick tears ready to spill over.

"Emmy, what's the matter," she said while she bent to her knees so she would be eye level to the small child.

"Tattem, pushed me and I fall down and hurt my knee," Emmy pulled up her dress to show a scrapped knee and began to cry.

She picked up the small child in her arms and abandoned her laundry once again. Cuddling the child while she cried upon the protective shoulder of her nanny, they headed to the kitchen to wash and bandage the wound. Walking past rows of tiny unmade beds with a sheet, a blanket and a pillow half on the bed and draped upon the floor, it looked to be another very challenging day.

Her aunt, Mrs. Brownlocks had the twins in their highchairs and was spoon feeding them their breakfast, while four of her older children sat around the table preparing to eat theirs.

The kettle on the stove spewed steam and was whistling loudly. She sat Emmy on the countertop and quickly grabbed the pot holder and removed the kettle from the cast iron burner. Stacks of greasy fry pans sat next to the wood burning stove caked in burnt remains of what the family was eating for their breakfast. The wash tub on the other side of the stone countertop was filling with the first wave of first breakfast plates as the eldest boys of the Brownlocks ate first and was out helping their father with morning chores in the barn.

"Did you sleep well last night?" asked Mrs. Brownlocks when her niece entered into the kitchen. "I know it's not much of a space being in the corner of the room with the children and all, but still we must make due with what we have."

"Yes, I did sleep well once I finally got the twins off to sleep," commented Estella while she grabbed a wash cloth and soaked it in the bucket of cold water. Applying it to Emmy's leg, she washed it clean.

"You're a blessing is all I have to say, Estella. Having you here helping me with the little ones, eases my burdens a great sum, I must say. It's kind of your brother, Freddy fer letting you come here to be giving us a hand, especially after your poor Da's death, rest his poor soul." Mrs. Brownlocks added and watched when Estella wrapped and bandaged little Emmy's knee.

"There now, good as new," comforted Estella and gave Emmy a hug and picked her up and stood her on the floor. Emmy wiped the thick tears from her eyes and scampered off to the table to eat her breakfast.

"I am more than happy to be helping you, my dear aunt. You're children are just so precious," Estella commented over her shoulder and added another stack of plates to the wash tub and began to roll up her sleeves to begin washing them. Soon, one of the older children joined Estella and together they worked in getting the dishes done.

As the day progressed and chores were getting done, while others were added to the list and in between playing with the children, Estella's hardly had a single moment to herself. It wasn't until night when all the children were in their beds and she pulled the curtain closed to her small little area were a single small bed sat in the farthest corner. There was no privacy for Estella, nor a moment to call her own. She was the last one to sleep and the first one to awaken, and this was wearing upon her. While she lay upon her small bed, she began to think if perhaps having her own place close by the Brownlocks would give her, her much needed privacy so she could relax after caring for their children during the day. She decided to speak to her uncle first thing in the morning.

xxx

Old Mr. Bottom's tavern was filled full when Merry first entered and walked around the tables to find a single chair sitting off in the far corner. After the week in Tuckborough visiting the Tooks and helping his cousin maneuver around his father's plan to introduce him to prominent Took's claim women in the hopes of Pippin finding a suitable wife. Merry was looking forward to returning back to Brandy Hall. With the powders secured in his pocket and the Took's distant cousin's tucked into their beds with the healers treating them for their sudden illness or so it was assumed, Merry ordered his mug of ale and settled in his chair to relax.

"Here, here don't you be thinking any of paying fer that drink of yours, Master Meridoc," chimed in Mr. Bottom when Merry reached into his pocket for his coins. "Havin' you in me tavern is an honor to be servin' you."

Hearing that free drinks were being offered, soon the other fine elderly folk joined the younger Master of Buckland at his table. Soon chairs were being pulled up and tables added. Merry's quiet evening was filled with singing, toasting and drinking. If Merry had planned to leave early that evening, it was soon forgotten or not permitted at the encouragement of the other hobbits that sat with him.

He was asked over and over again to repeat the same old tales of the War of Bywater and other great moments in Merry's life. They cheered and ordered more drinks when he finished.

Merry stood up after his finished his 5th or 6th mug of ale. He was not sure which it was and had lost count a long while ago. He was worried about Snowclad tied out in front and wanted to go check up upon her.

"You're not leaving, Master Meridoc!" shouted the white haired hobbit sitting at the end of the table.

"My poor pony has been waiting a little too long outside for me to return, so my fine friends, I must say my fondest Good Evenings."

"I've seen your pony when I first entered. She foreign by the looks of her," asked Old Gilbert Toadhallows and Mr. Broadbelt nodded his head in agreement and waited for Merry to answer him.

"Yes, and you'll not see a finer mare in the entire Shire as that one there," spoke Merry proudly of his pony.

"I wouldn't give two shanks for a foreign pony to add in my corral," snubbed Mr. Broadbelt. "Why, my own ponies come from a long line of the best Shire breeds that any could find."

"Tis true, Master Meridoc," chimed in old Gilbert Toadhallows. "Mr. Broadbelt's ponies are the best around."

Merry wrinkled his brow at their comments. "The Shire breeds are fine enough to be sure, but my Snowclad out there, out shines any that you can bring. She can go the distance that has not ever been seen in the Shire before and none can match her."

Mr. Broadbelt rubbing his chin firmly and clenched his pipe tighter between his teeth as worry set in mind. If folks began to think that the Brandybuck's ponies were a finer breed, he stood to lose a lot and his coffers would soon be empty. Being a hobbit that possessed a great business mind, a plan began to form in his mind. Taking in a long draw from his pipe, he blew a thick puff of smoke that drifted just over the tops of their heads of the hobbits that gathered around him. "Well, Master Meriadoc, that sounds to me like a challenge being spoken of. If'n you're as proud of that pony as ya say ya are, how about we wager on a pony race just to see which is finer, you're foreign pony or the Shire breeds."

All the heads of the hobbits snapped towards Merry and waited for him to answer Mr. Broadbelt's challenge. Merry looked at Mr. Broadbelt for a short time and squaring his shoulders, he stood to face him. Extending his hand to the elderly hobbit, he gave a quick nod of his head. "You're on, Mr. Broadbelt, my pony against yours."

Mr. Broadbelt leaned back in his chair raising the front legs of it to let it rock just on the back legs and held both of his hands extended out in front of him. "Now wait a minute there, Master Meriadoc. I'm a bit old to go galloping around the country side, especially matched against such a spry lad as yourself. I'm talking about a real challenge here. What I'm proposing is that we arrange a pony race and let all the young lads around the shire enter into it. I'll put up my ponies and the prize money for the winner of this race. Now, how's that for a challenge?"

"That's a bit much, Mr. Broadbelt, wouldn't you say?" questioned Merry. "Having that many ponies flooding the street of Stock would cause many to get hurt!"

"I was not thinking of just Stock, my fine lad. I was thinking more of a distance race of the ponies. Let's say starting at Tuckborough, at the Great Smial and racing all the way to Brandy Hall. You say your pony can go the distance and that by my measure is a good stretch of a pony's legs."

"You're on, Mr. Broadbelt," Merry agreed readily. "To get the ponies and riders ready will take some time, if you know what I mean."

"Well then, let's say in a month or two from now," added Mr. Broadbelt. "I'll speak to the Thain tomorrow about this race. I've got some business with him and I know he will agree to this."

"I'll get my father to agree to this also," said Merry and held his hand out for Mr. Broadbelt to shake on it.

When he grasped Merry's hand, he held it firmly and shook it soundly, agreeing to the terms that they have made.

Merry turned from the group of hobbits and said his good evenings.

XXX

It was dusk as the amber sky seemed to glow red upon the floating thick clouds overhead when Merry entered the gates of Brandy Hall. Snowclad was magnificent in her abilities and strength when racing across the country side and rolling hills of Buckland. She seemed to love to run as much as Merry enjoyed the thrill of running her. He felt free with the wind blowing in his hair and hearing her hooves pounding the ground from underneath her. Her movement were effortless in their fast pace and he could feel the strength this little pony possessed. Coming from the rare breed of Rohan, his friend, King Eomer gave him a gift of great magnificence that he cherished above all others that he owned. Even his Rohan sword that hung in the great hall of his home that he held so much pride in and cherished also, but Snowclad meant so much more to him. She trusted him and he knew he would never let her down. He would always be there for her. If Mr. Broadbelt wanted to prove his ponies were the best in the Shire, he would be greatly mistaken. Merry knew his pony would leave them in the dust of her tracks.

Merry could see old Hobs waiting for him by the gate of their private corral and he held it open for him to enter. Merry greeted the caretaker of their grounds around Brandy Hall when he pulled Snowclad to a halt before him.

"Good evening, Master Meriadoc! Has yer trip to Tuckborough been a prosperous one?" shouted old Hobs. "My Hatty has been waitin' impatiently fer yer return. She has been a keepin' yer supper warm and stacked high upon a plate. Ya best not keep her waitin' too long," he chuckled in jest. "Ya be knowin' her temper as well as I do."

Merry climbed off of Snowclad and saw Tom running towards them to take Snowclad to her stable. He turned back to Hobs while he waited for Tom.

"It's a good thing, Hobs!" stated Merry. "My stomach is wagging empty as well as Snowclad here."

Turning to Tom who had just joined them, he took the reins from his master and wiped the sweat from her soft fur. "You've been running her pretty hard, Master Meriadoc. She'll need a good stretch of her legs to cool her off some before she's fed good and proper," commented Tom who loved this pony and worried about her endlessly.. "Don't worry yourself about Snowclad, here. I'll have her tended, brushed, fed and bedded down in no time."

Merry patted Tom's back and smiled at his stable boy. Merry knew when he hired Tom to care of his ponies, that he had the most gentle heart and love for ponies than any other that he had ever known. He met Tom after his parents died and was more than happy to take him to Brandy Hall. He would not even take residence in Brandy Hall when Merry offered him a comfortable room and preferred the stable to sleep with the ponies. Snowclad was in the best hands under Tom's gentle care.

xxx

The smell of musty old books and the lingering scent of pipe weed in the old study of Brandy Hall gave Saradoc the only comfort he felt this night after his meeting with the healers. There conversation and confirmation to the health of the families that dwelt in their halls made him realize that he was right all along. His son was at the center of this and he felt it was time to teach him a lesson of his lifetime.

Saradoc closed his journal and put his quill to rest. Standing up, he blew out the candle upon his desk and walked over to extinguish the other burning candles around his study. Taking the last candle burning he walked out of his study to head to his chambers for the night. All would be settled at his wife's tea party the following day.