XXXI

Getting Reestablished

There was a closeness to the air in Bag End.

"For goodness sake, Lotho! Let in some fresh air!" Lobelia reached to pull aside the curtains but her son blocked her.

"No! We musn’t, Mum," Lotho said too loudly and quickly. "They said we must keep the curtains drawn."

Lobelia pulled back from Lotho, her color suddenly high, her eyes flashing. " ‘They said.’ ‘They said?’ I thought things around here went as YOU say, Lotho Sackville-Baggins."

"I . . . Yes . . . They, they do, Mother. Eh it’s just . . . just that . . ." Lotho looked from side to side, then over his mother’s head to see the room behind her then turned to check that the window behind him was closed as well as covered. He leaned close to his mother’s ear and whispered. "They told me that they’re spying on us. Yes. Spying. Peaking in at the windows. Listening. And we can’t have any of that sort of thing, can we Mother?"

"Who said who is spying on us?"

"My aids. Some of the workers as well. They have told me they have seen non-worker and non-sherriff hobbits lurking about. You’ve always said they do that sort of thing, Mother. You have always told me to be careful of all the ignorant, jealous hobbits that are around. I . . . I thought you would like that I’m being cautious."

Lobelia looked at her son. Was she suddenly seeing a shadow of his sniveling father in the lad? The feeling passed as Lotho drew himself up and spoke once again in a normal tone.

"They are treating me with such high regard, Mother. They never do a thing without my approval and they are making sure I am thought of properly in the Shire. They told me that I wasn’t looking the proper part of Chief of the Shire by going out myself to nose about. ‘Kings ‘n such stays put in their big cities and tall towers whilst lettin’ their loyal workers, aids and advisors do the wanderin’ about keepin’ an eye on thin’s.’ I gave proper thought to what they were saying. I remembered that in all the stories I’ve heard dealing with Kings and others, that it is always the lesser persons going to them, not the other way around. So I agreed with their assessment and they will be doing all the running about now. They will see to it that all of our needs and requests are met as well. We are the royal family in our fine home." Lotho took his mother’s hand, bowing over it and kissing it. "So, Lady Lobelia, there is no need for any concern on your part. All is well in hand."

The Great Road Tavern was no longer overcrowded with Ruffians. Orders had come through at last. "Get back to work!" was all the message said, but that was quite enough. The messenger had added to it that Sharkey was none too pleased to hear that his men’s efforts in the "Land of the Shire Rats" had nearly ground to a halt.

"These here tree-men has him trapped but good in the Tower." The messenger looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, that’s not quite the right of it. I think he’s stayin’ put so’s they don’t notice that he’s a keepin’ busy." He gave an exaggerated wink while laying a finger to his nose.

And so Naznock was finally able to get his lads out of the tavern and back to their assigned places, with extra attention having been given to the securing of Mr. "Chief of the Shire" Sackville-Baggins.

Saradoc walked along the eastern bank of the Brandywine, glancing from time to time across the swift dark water where the Shire’s shore lay to the west. As he had hinted in his letter to Paladin, the respite from the tyranny of Chief Lotho and his Ruffians had been short lived. Saradoc stopped. He looked hard at the western shore. He had never lived in the Shire but like every hobbit in Buckland, even as some in Bree, he felt bound to it. Even though there had been hobbits living in Bree well before they began to move into the area later called the Shire, somehow, the Shire was home, and home was still in evil hands. The messenger who had carried the letter to Paladin had not returned. Saradoc received word a few days later that he had been stopped by Ruffians as he left Tookland, that his hands had been bound tightly behind him before he was marched off to the Lockholes. It was beginning again.

Saradoc sighed heavily as he turned eastward to look over Buckland. The Hobbits of the Shire would have to find their own paths through these times; he was only responsible for the welfare of the Hobbits of Buckland. He had gone against the council of his advisors, they thought the bad times were over. Saradoc had kept in place everything that had been done thus far to aid his people. But Saradoc took little comfort from his sound reasoning. "Would that it had not been needed," he thought as he started back to Brandy Hall.

The Took elders had met again, decisions had been made, plans implemented. Though the situation appeared to have eased, they would still have goods and products stocked up in storage at the Smials. The winter wheat and barley were being harvested, the summer crops were getting planted. At least half the strawberries had been put up as preserves. New types of medicinal herbs were being planted by the more experienced gardeners through out Tookland. Goods of various kinds had been coming into the barns and storerooms of Great Smials; at least they had for a while.

"I don’t rightly know, Thain Paladin, but the wheat ‘n barley was a-comin’ in right regular till ‘bout a week back." Isenbraad Took-Banks, the hobbit overseeing the storage of grain for Tookland, was obviously uncomfortable as he tried to explain to his boss what had been happening. "Then it started inta just slowin’ down ta a dribble."

"It hasn’t all been harvested, not this quickly," said Paladin as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know for certain not, sir. I know myself of at least thirty or so what have at least some, if not all their crop still in the field."

Paladin’s hand remained tangled in his hair, fingers scratching nervously at his scalp. He stared at the grain bins. "How much, Isenbraad?"

"Perhaps half of what it ought be."

Paladin nodded his head then walked away without a word. He had heard the same from his wife regarding the early herbs and berries. Pimpernel had received little of what had been anticipated of garments for the clothes exchange. Theribald had sent word that he had received only about two-thirds of the cured pipeweed he had been expecting. Paladin’s fingers continued to worry his head, while his head tried to find a reason why things were going wrong.

Fredegar Bolger and his cousin Ronoldo Bolger had been fishing from the north bank of The Water that was part of Freddie’s family holdings near the town of Budgeford. They had stopped short of coming out of the hedgerow nearest the farm’s main buildings when they heard loud voices coming from that direction.

"Quietly, Ron," Freddie whispered. "I don’t much like the sounds of that. There are voices I don’t recognize." Ron nodded then he and his cousin crept silently to the edge of the hedgerow.

There were Men in the Bolger’s farm yard. Men, hobbit sherriffs and wagons that were being loaded with sacks of harvested winter wheat and barley.

"This is an outrage!" Odovacar Bolger hollered. "An outrage, I say. I thought you took care of all of this business last fall and early winter? Get away from here!"

"You’d best be watchin’ your tiny little self, hobbit, or your teeny self is goin’ ta be gettin’ hurt." One of the men loomed over Fredegar’s father. Only Ron’s touch on his arm kept Freddie from leaping out of their hiding spot. Ron pointed toward the house, Rosamunda Bolger had opened the kitchen door. She now stood in the doorway with her hands, clasping her apron, pulled tight to her mouth.

"I had best be watching myself? No, you had better be careful for yourself. You Men took more than a fair share last time you set your clumsy shod feet on my property, you won’t be taking any more." Faster than the Man could see, Odo let fly a stone at the nearest horse hitched to the wagon. The horse squealed and started to bolt, dragging the Man who grabbed his bridle half way to the gate before the Man got him stopped.

Rosa screamed.

The Man who Odovacar had been taking to task had hit the old hobbit upside the head, sending Odo back several feet before he landed on his back in the dirt of the farmyard. Odo did not stir.

"Any other Shire Rat thinkin’ of gettin’ in my way?" the Man bellowed as he turned slowly to survey the whole of the yard. He took a few strides towards Rosamunda. "You there! Ya be that thing’s female?" he waved his hand back toward Odo where he lay in the dirt. Rosa sank to her knees on the doorsill, her apron now wadded into her mouth to keep herself from screaming again. "You his female?" the Man yelled again and started toward the terrified hobbitess. He stopped a couple of paces away from her, glowering down at her. He kicked a spray of dirt into her face before turning away. "Get moving ya scum and get that wagon good ‘n full afore we drag it on out o’ this rat hole."

The work was quickly done, the Men, sherriffs and the wagon were out of the gate and on the road before Rosa had the strength in her heart or legs to move to her husband’s side. Odo was unconscious but at least he was alive. Several of their farm hands came to quickly move Mr. Bolger into the house as another rode quickly away to fetch the healer. Ron started to move for the farm yard as soon as the wagon started to move but this time Freddie was holding him back.

"We’re following that wagon," was all Fredegar said before heading not for his father, his mother or his home, but along the hedgerow toward the road.

Freddie and Ronoldo had been walking for about two hours without a word passing between them. They kept the wagon in sight or in earshot at all times.

"What if they don’t stop, Freddie?"

"Then we can’t stop."

"But . . . but you’ve no idea where they are headed! We could be still walking tomorrow."

"They have hobbits with them," Freddie panted. "Hobbits on foot, Ron. They have horses that are pulling a heavy wagon. They will have to stop and rest."

The two cousins walked on.

At sunset the caravan stopped, having added other groups with equally full wagons along the way. Fredegar and Ronoldo kept their distance from the encampment yet were close enough to hear the loud speech of the Men if they wished to pay attention. They quickly noticed the Ruffians set no guard over the wagon holding their own food stuffs, allowing the lighter more stealthy Ron to procure a loaf of bread, some cheese and a bottle of wine. It wasn’t until they finished their small supper that they spoke of the day’s events.

"I don’t know why I came with you, Fredegar. I was, and really still am, furious with you. You care about this wretched wagon of grain more than your own father."

"No, I don’t." Freddie starred off at the Ruffian’s campfires as he spoke.

"You left him lying there, Freddie! Without the least bit of a movement on your part to see to him. Nothing more than, ‘we’re following the wagon’ from you. He could be dead, Fredegar!"

Freddie turned to look at Ron, a bit of the distant firelight catching the glint of tears on his cheeks. "If he is dead, Ron, would there have been anything for me to do? And if he’s only injured, they will fetch the healer and I would be sent from his room. Estella is there to comfort our mother." He sniffed a bit into his sleeve to keep it quiet then went on. "As far as I know, none of us know where all our goods have gone. Is it to the other Farthings as we were told when this all started? Is it to Bree? Is it to somewhere us hobbits have barely heard of? We have the chance of finding out, Ronnie. We’ll stay close but hidden. They’ve left scouts all along the way, but they haven’t spotted us. We’ve a good chance of solving this dilemma if we stick with them. I don’t think you noticed, but I caught old Nat’s eye and signaled to him that we were going after the wagon, so they won’t be worrying about us back home."

Ron sighed, relaxing a bit. "No, I didn’t see that. That was a big part of my concerns, cousin. But Freddie . . ."

"I had to, Ron lad, I just . . . had to is all." Fredegar Bolger gazed once more toward the campfires. "I stayed behind once before, I stayed behind and . . ." He sat a bit straighter, taking in a good deep breath as he did. "This time I’ll not stay behind and wait for what may come. This time I move to help us, help all of us hobbits, as much as I can, anyway I can." He looked his cousin squarely in the eye. "You can go or you can stay."

"I’m with you."

They solemnly shook hands to seal their agreement.