Eighteen

            “Estel, wake up!  Did an evil dream disturb your sleep”

            “Not exactly evil, Nana.  I was with others, and I saw our feet.  I saw the boots of the Wizard; and my own, scuffed as if they had walked far.  And two boots black with silver piping, carefully polished to hide great wear but with new soles and heels.  Then the soft suede boots of an Elf, and the heavy boots of a Dwarf, stumping after.  Then….”

            “Then what, Estel?”

            “The feet of four Periain, bare and covered with hair as are those of Master Bilbo.  Eighteen feet, walking endlessly….”