Chapter 3 – An Unexpected Request

The day started early for Edon and Sed. They woke before the sun and joined their sisters in the cool morning air to check the vines, as was their errand. There was no threat of frost during the dry summer months, so they went down row after row of heavy vines and sweet smelling nectar, checking for pests and the general state of things. The grapes were growing heavy and plump already, and this crop would be ready for harvesting soon. Their father would be pleased with this news.

Once all the vines were checked, and any pests dislodged, they went in for first breakfast and discussed their plans for the day. All the children had their studies, then the lasses would be going into town with their mother to look at yarn and ribbons for a sewing project, and their father was to meet with some of the other vineyard owners to discuss plans for the annual wine-tasting that was coming up soon. The lads would be going back out to Hedge Field. Fendi and Morti would meet them there, and together they would go to the Hay Gate. For the Gate was opening today and everyone was going to be there.  

Saradoc sat in his study, going over the ledgers and accounts for the week. Today was Sterday, and he was expected to give report to his father on the progress of the crop yields after second breakfast. He was tallying the expected yields for the barley and wheat fields when a light knock sounded on the door. He looked up just in time to see Frodo peek his head through the doorway.

“Come in, lad,” Sara said with a smile and waved Frodo inside. “Esme tells me you went to the races yesterday. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes Cousin,” Frodo said and slipped into the room.

He lingered uncertainly by the door, shuffling his feet and looking about the room. He didn’t often come in here and he never felt comfortable sitting until being told to do so. Knowing this, Sara waved him inside again and patted a chair that sat close to his own. “Have a seat, my lad.”

Frodo moved to follow the order and settled into the large wooden chair. He continued glancing about the room, never meeting Saradoc’s puzzled gaze.

“I’m glad to hear you had fun,” Saradoc continued now. “Did you go alone?”

“I went with Cousins Fendi and Morti, and their friends Edon and Sed.”

Saradoc hummed at this. While he didn’t like to discourage Frodo from socializing – the lad too often kept to himself – he wished that Frodo would find more respectable lads to run about with. The last time Frodo had been found in their company, they had been snatching pies set out to cool on windowsills, upsetting quite a few hard-working mothers with their antics.

“I hope you did not get too much sun,” was all that he said. “You seem a bit flushed,” he added, his curiosity mounting. What could Frodo possibly want?

Frodo shook his head and bit his bottom lip. “I got as much as sun as I could stand,” he said and fidgeted with the chair arm. Finally, he took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I was wondering if I could race next year. Esme said you used to race and you were the fastest hobbit ever. I’d like to try to be as good as you.” Then he clamped his mouth shut and looked up at Saradoc expectantly.

Sara gaped at Frodo in delighted surprise. Frodo didn’t often show an interest in anything outside his reading and little Merry. Perhaps the lad had just needed time to adjust, and was now ready to come out of his shell.

“Of course you can race next year!” Sara exclaimed. “You’ll be old enough by then, and it’ll be a wonderful opportunity for you to meet some other lads closer to your own age.”

“I was wondering if I could go back out to Hedge Field to start practicing.”

“It’s never too early to start. If you can wait until after luncheon, I’d be glad to take you out and give you some pointers,” Saradoc offered. He needed to go out that way anyway, what with the Gate opening up. His brother would be there currently, supervising things, but Merimac had other business to attend to today, and their father didn’t like the Gate to be unattended when it was opened. There would be a gap of an hour or two when no Brandybuck would be about to keep order, but with the bounders on duty, that shouldn’t be much of a worry.

Frodo bit his lower lip and fidgeted with the items in his pockets. “I’d like to go out right now, if I may.”

“I will meet you there, then, but you are to go straight there and stay there.”

Frodo nodded and smiled shyly. He waited for the instructions he could see were coming.

“Take plenty of water with you, as it will be hot again today. If you start to feel overheated, get under shade immediately; don’t attempt to walk back here. I’ll be there as soon as I am able.”

Frodo nodded again, and hopped off the chair. He turned and hurriedly left the room. When he reached the hall, he leaned against the wall and let out a steadying breath. Then he picked himself up, dashed for the door, called farewell to Esme and Merry, and left.

Saradoc smiled after his cousin as Frodo left the room. He went back to his paperwork, his spirits high, feeling confident for the first time since his young cousin moved in almost two years before that Frodo living with them would work out after all.  

Not more than a minute passed before a knock sounded on the door. Esme tucked Merry into the crook of her arm and went to answer the call, muttering about who could it be so early in the morning; Scarlet wasn’t due to report for work until another hour. She opened the door and found Gil standing in the tunnel. She regarded him cautiously.

“Yes, Gil? What’s the matter, lad?”

“Nothing at all, Cousin, or at least, I’m hoping so. I was just wondering if Frodo is about? I need to speak with him,” Gil said.

“I’m afraid you’ve just missed him,” Esme said. “What is this about?”

“I’m most sorry, Esme,” Gil said, with a self-conscious duck of his head. “I’m afraid I said some things to Frodo yesterday, out of my turn. I was having words with Edon Brockhouse, as lads will do at times, and Frodo rather got himself into the middle of it. In my haste, I directed some words towards the lad that would have been best held back for Edon himself.”

“Or best not spoken at all if they did not have kind intention,” Esme couldn’t help but scold as she remembered Frodo’s tearful face from the day before. “Frodo was quite upset yesterday when he returned home. What exactly did you say to him?”

“I called him cowardly and a bairn,” Gil said. “I make no excuse, just beg apology.”

“That will be Frodo’s to give,” Esme said, her temper seething as her motherly instincts flared up. She bounced Merry on her hip, to remind herself not to get too upset, then let into Gil without mercy anyway. “You’ve a lot of nerve, Madagilus Banks, to say such words and untruths to my cousin. I don’t know what it is between you and this Edon lad, but you’d best not get Frodo in the middle of it again. If you two lads cannot conduct yourselves accordingly, then I suggest you both leave each other well enough alone from here on out. If you have any further such contacts with Frodo, you will be on your way to the Master before you know what’s to, and if he doesn’t take you over his knee and strap you good for your childish behavior, you can consider yourself lucky.”

“Yes, Cousin,” Gil said, accepting the scold without protest.

Esmeralda took several deep breaths to calm herself down. The bairn was whimpering, upset with his mother’s outburst, and she cooed at him reassuringly. When she spoke again, her voice was gentler, but still hard with steel. “Frodo will be back by afternoon tea. I expect to see you here at that time as well. I will also be speaking with your mother.”

Gil flinched slightly now and nodded. “Yes’m.”

Esme shook her head at him. “You’ve been doing so well, too. Good day, Gil.”

Gil backed away with a bow and left. Esme closed the door, harder than she ought. Merry was fussing now, still feeling his mother’s ire, and Esme found herself shaking with anger. She sought out Sara, knowing her husband would be wondering what the arguing had been about and needing to hand Merry over for a few moments until she was calm enough to handle him again.

Gil turned the corner, trying not to feel bitter at Esmeralda’s disappointment, and found Fuchsia leaning against the doorjamb of her family’s apartment. She shook her head at him, no sympathy in her eyes, just as he had expected. “You deserved that, you know,” she said, then stepped back inside and closed the door.

“You look lovely today,” Gil called through the door, then puffed out his frustration and continued on his way. He wouldn’t be walking in hand with her today, that much was certain.  

Frodo dashed down the tunnels of Brandy Hall, in his haste forgetting to stop at the kitchens for a water skin or even a basket of food. He needed to get to Hedge Field before he could change his mind. He had thought long and hard the previous night and he had come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t let his fears get the better of him anymore. He was getting older now, and had Merry to think about. Spending a few hours alone near the High Hay would be a good start to overcoming his fears, to his way of thinking.  

Twice a year, the Hay Gate was opened to allow the gardeners to tend the eastern side of the High Hay, the large hedge that protected the eastern border of Buckland from the Old Forest and all else from Outside. As the gardeners hacked away tirelessly in shifts from sun up to sun down, bounders stood guard, ready to shout a warning should the trees become restless and to light the bonfires that stood ready for the fuel of the torches that stood ablaze near at hand. The trees generally behaved themselves though, and the job of guarding the forest was often considered an easy week’s work. Every bounder secretly hoped he would be picked for the job and the ones that weren’t picked crossed their fingers for next time.

Hob Hayward was the first bounder on guard this first day. He spent much of the morning following Merimac about and being instructed on what needed doing. The gardeners knew their business and worked without instruction, but as the bounders rotated each time, they needed to be briefed on their duties. After going over the particulars about keeping the torches lit and bonfire logs well-oiled, Merimac pointed toward the open gate, hidden underground beneath the thick wall of the Hedge.

“Tweens will come here and try to get in,” Mac said. “Be on your guard and let none pass. I doubt any will get near enough to actually attempt it however; fear of the Forest is enough to keep them from getting very close. However, one bounder should be stationed at the Gate at all times, to shout a warning should they get too close. The only hobbits I want coming through the gate are the other workers.”

“Of course, Mr. Mac,” Hob said. “I’ll keep me eyes peeled on that, as well as everything else, and I’ll tell the other bounders as they get here.”

“They should be arriving shortly,” Mac said, then went to check on the gardeners, to make sure they had all they needed.

Hob went about his business, going over everything again in his head to make sure he had it all straight. Then when the other three bounders arrived, he went over everything again. One bounder was put in charge of watching the tunnel and the Gate, and the rest fanned out to cover the line of gardeners working on the Hedge.

The morning passed slowly and quietly, and the trees stood still.  

Edon and Sed reached Hedge Field first and sat in the shade of the boulder to await their friends. Edon scratched absently at the bandage wrapped around his hand and slowly unwound the itchy cloth. He flexed his fingers, the skin smarting tightly around the wounds. He was pleased to see that the cuts were already scabbed and healing. Tucking the bandage into his trouser pocket, he looked over at his brother. “How long’ll we have to wait, you wonder?”

“We said by elevenses,” Sed pointed out. “They better have remembered the food.”

“They’ll remember; no fear of that.”

“No, the fear is they’ll eat it before they get here,” Sed said knowingly. He and Edon laughed at the thought.

“I brought some muffins, just in case,” Edon said.

They sat in silence, listening to the breeze and watching the long grass bob and sway with the wind. Edon closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun, which was still slightly behind them. He basked in the serenity around him and for a moment forgot that he was sitting at the far end of Buckland, forgot to miss home, his true home, and simpler times.

Next to him, Sed was counting on his fingers, his lips moving as he silently went over numbers in his head. Edon knew without asking what his brother was doing: Sed was determining how much wine they’d be able to make this year, and how much profit they would make from it. Sed could never stop thinking about the vineyard for too long, especially when it was quiet. Edon also thought about the vineyard at such times, but he kept it from his mind now, allowing himself to forgot all responsibilities in this one moment of tranquility, before turning his thoughts to the Hay Gate.

Like most other tweens, they always went to the Hay Gate on opening day to see the turnout and to see who would attempt to get past the bounders at the Gate. Not that any of the tweens really wanted to succeed into getting past the bounder, nor did they wish to go any nearer the Old Forest than the Hedge would permit. But if they at least attempted, then they were thought of as brave and impressive, and could use that admiration to their advantage for a long while.

Legend had it that long ago in the summer of 1256, Hildigard Took, while visiting from Tookland, actually made it past the bounders and even dared to go into the forest itself. He was inside the forest for a full ten minutes before he was found and pulled back out. He was given great praise by his fellow tweens for his daring and great reprimand by his parents. Then, a year later, on the anniversary of his run into the Forest, he was at Great Smials eating his second breakfast when he suddenly clutched at his chest and fell over dead. Most hobbits claimed it was a poor heart that had plagued Hildigard his whole life, but many thought it was a curse of going into the Old Forest. Only the oddest of the Brandybucks ever went into the forest now, for whatever reason they saw need to do so, but no one else dared to attempt it.

The tale added a dangerously exciting air to the Gate Opening, as did the rumors that the Forest was prowled by wolves and goblins, and other unsavory creatures. Tweens would come from all over Buckland to stand in chilled awe of the Gate and the forest beyond. Dares were tossed about half-seriously and bets were made to see who would actually attempt to go near the Gate. Only a handful actually attempted it, and they inevitably stopped dead in their tracks and turned about before they even reached the shadow of the Hedge.

After waiting for many long minutes, Edon nudged Sed and pointed at the road. Many tweens, as well as a few of the older teens, had passed by, but now a hobbit came that they had not expected to see at all. For the second time in as many days, Frodo surprised the brothers with his very presence, and they watched as the lad turned off the road and came in their direction.

“Morning, Frodo,” the brothers intoned.

“Good day,” Frodo greeted. He came to a stop before them and lifted his hand to shield his eyes as he squinted down at them. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re waiting for Fendi and Morti. You?” Sed asked.

“I’ve decided I’m going to join the annual races next year. I’m here to practice running,” Frodo answered and sat down in the shade.

Edon and Sed shared a quick glance and Sed shrugged. “Practice makes perfect,” Edon supplied, “but you know, Frodo, most lads don’t start training until the end of spring, if they’re going to train at all.”

“It’s not really anything as serious as all that,” Sed added.

“Oh.” Frodo bit his lower lip and dragged his fingers through the dirt at the base of the boulder. Why hadn’t Saradoc mentioned that to him? “It’s just, I’ve never raced before. I want to be prepared,” he said, trying not to feel too foolish.

“You’ll certainly be prepared if you start practicing now,” Edon said kindly. “Maybe I should start training up now, too. I might actually beat Gil next year if I do.”

Sed snorted, letting his brother know what a ridiculous wish he thought that was. Frodo had quickly grown lost in digging for rocks again, as he had the day before, but now he looked up. “Why do you two fight?” he asked, in a flippant and distracted manner that made the question seem unimportant and harmless.

“That’s a long answer,” was all that Edon would say.

“It is because of that lass you both favor?”

Edon and Sed quirked their eyebrows at Frodo. For someone who never paid any attention to anything going on around him, he certainly knew a great deal. Perhaps he wasn’t always as distracted as he let on.

“Part of it is because of her,” Edon answered. “The rest is simply that he’s a horrible friend. He betrayed me.”

Frodo nodded, as if he had expected just such an answer, and let the matter drop. Sed further distracted him by saying, “You know, if you’re really keen on getting started with your training, why don’t you come with us to the Gate Opening? There’s nothing better than the Old Forest for making a hobbit run fast.”

Frodo made no answer to this, but became intensely interested in a fat, black spider crawling through the grass. He played with it, blocking its path and trying to get it to crawl onto his hand or an offered blade of grass, to little avail. The spider continued to side-step him and maintain its path.

At long last, they heard Fendi and Morti approaching. The cousins called over the field to them and the brothers stood to join them. They were about to say farewell to Frodo when the teen stood also and squinted up at them. “I’ll come,” he stated simply.

“You don’t have to,” Edon said.

“I was only joking, Frodo,” Sed said.

“I know, but I’m coming. Only, I have to be back here in an hour. Cousin Sara is coming to help me train.”

Edon shrugged. “As long as you’re certain,” he said and stepped toward the road.

The three hobbits approached the two cousins standing on the road. Frodo followed at a slower pace and soon trailed behind the others, but his gait was sure and determined. If he could face the Hedge, then he could face the Forest as well. Just before they reached the road though, Frodo called out, “Edon, wait.”

Edon stopped and turned back to Frodo. “Have you changed your mind? It’s all right if you do. I did the same my first attempt out.”

“No, it’s not that,” Frodo said, though he was thankful for the admission. He came up next to Edon and lowered his voice so that no one else could hear him. “Do you know Piper Redleaf of Bucklebury?”

“I do. Why?”

“The whole time you were watching Fuchsia Brownlock yesterday, Piper was watching you. She likes you.” Frodo didn’t wait for Edon’s stunned reaction, but continued on to the road, leaving Edon gaping where he stood.

“Are you coming or not?” Fendi finally called at him with a laugh and the friends continued on their way. Edon shook himself out of his shock and ran after them, not sure at all what to make of Frodo’s news.
 
 

To be continued…