Chapter 9.

Market day at that time, before the worst of the Troubles afflicted the Shire, was a high point of the week, as it remains to this day. It was a time for families to walk together around the market square of Stock, a time of greeting and gossip, an exchanging of news both good and bad, of bursts of laughter and sympathetic pats on the shoulder.

Though the stalls were fewer and less heavily laden, goods were still available for sale, and the ruffians at this point in time had not yet begun to examine the offerings for imaginary flaws and confiscate whole tables full of goods. Within a few months, however, the market would be a wistful memory. Market day would continue for another month or so after the ruffians made it unprofitable or untenable to sell from a market stall, in the form of hobbits gathering for conversation, but after the coming of Sharkey a rule would be added to the ever-lengthening list of Rules that would forbid the gathering together of Shirefolk in numbers larger than half-a-dozen. The only exception would be for a single family that exceeded this number.

On this day, Hally and Rosemary walked arm in arm along the stalls, admiring the wares on display, stopping occasionally to bargain -- Hally oftener than his wife, who grew more and more wide-eyed at her husband’s extravagance. They walked slowly, on account of Rosemary’s delicate condition. As a matter of fact, Gundy had appeared on their doorstep that morning with his ponies, pulling his own waggon (larger than Hally’s cart), and they had been able to ride into Stock in fine style, with Rose on the waggon seat beside Gundy, and Hally riding in the waggon bed with the children and the Bolgers’ younger brother Andy.

Gundy, too, was walking the market, stopping here and there to bargain, though he had left wife and children at home, and didn’t say why but for a vague excuse that it was better this way. In a way it was better, as Hally and Rose were able to leave their children at Gundy’s smial, to play with their cousins, and no worries about someone getting lost in the bustle at the market.

Each time one of the brothers made a purchase, money exchanged hands. The vendors were happy to take good, hard coin in hand. They smiled, and were obliging enough to wrap up the orders and personally carry, or have an older son carry the goods to Gundy’s waggon, waiting in one of the streets just off the market, with Andy casually leaning against one of the wheels, presumably to keep an eye on the ponies, but he was also careful to tuck each arriving purchase beneath the canvas sheet that the three brothers had spread over the waggon bed upon their arrival.

Now Hally guided Rosemary over to the weavers’ booth, with its shelves and baskets containing rolls and rolls of fabric. ‘I want you to think of all we’ll need for the coming year,’ Hally said to her. ‘Not just spring, or the coming summer months, but the autumn chill and winter cold as well!’
‘O Hally!’ she whispered. ‘How can I…?’

‘Think of it as my birthday present to you,’ he said.

‘Is it your birthday, then, Hally?’ the weaver said. ‘Well why didn’t you say so?’

‘Not quite, but soon,’ Hally said, ‘and as market day doesn’t fall on my birthday, well, I’m giving my family a few early presents.’

‘Cutting wood must pay well,’ the weaver said.

‘Well enough, Rufus, well enough,’ Hally answered. ‘I’ve been putting money by for some time now, and what with the new babe coming, it seems a good time to stock up on this and that.’ As they weren’t carrying their parcels, but having them taken to the waggon one by one, it wasn’t all that evident just how much they were buying altogether, and that was just as well. They didn’t want to start a lot of talk and speculation, after all.

Even so, as Rosemary was pointing to the last bolt of fabric among her choices, of a sunny yellow, she noticed a watching scar-faced Man who seemed to take some interest in their purchases at the weavers’ stand. When their eyes met, he gazed at her boldly, one corner of his mouth lifting in a wry smile. She coloured and made a courtesy in his direction, with as sincere a smile as she could muster.

‘What is it, Rose?’ Hally said, and followed her gaze. He gave the Man a wide grin and a bow. The Man blinked a little, and then moved off, disappearing into an alleyway.

Turning back to the weaver, he said, ‘Well now, Rufus, if you’ll just bundle it all up and take it to our waggon...’ He gave direction to where the waggon waited, then counted coins into the weavers’ hand, adding ‘a little extra, for your trouble.’

‘Gladly!’ the weaver said with a smile. ‘And anytime! Come back next week!’

Hally returned the smile and refrained from pointing out that they’d just bought enough fabric to supply them with clothing for the coming year, of various colours and fibres. Taking Rosemary’s arm, he escorted her to the booth next to the weavers’ where yarn was on display. ‘You’ll need some of this stuff as well,’ he said, ‘if only to keep your needles clicking!’

‘O Hally,’ she said, but he began to point to colours that he liked, or that he thought blended well, and when she would have bought enough for just the family (she might make a new shawl for herself and one for each daughter, a soft blanket for the babe to come, mufflers, hats and mittens for everyone… very well, yarn for a rug or two for the floor…) ‘More, Hally? What ever should we do with so much yarn?’

‘You might teach the young ones to knit,’ Hally said, ‘and of course there are presents to be given, for birthdays and for Yule...’ and he gave her a meaningful look, and suddenly understanding she gasped, and then firmly fixed a smile on her face and said, ‘O’ course! I’d quite forgotten. You have the right of it, my love.’

One of Rose’s good friends came up to them then, wife of Will the Smith, a bright-eyed hobbit mum who was expecting her own babe not long after Rosemary’s was due. ‘Rose!’ she said. ‘Hally! What ever are you doing?’
‘Walking the market, o’ course,’ Hally replied. ‘Well now, Rose, I think we’re about done, and I even have a few coins left. It’s too bad the Golden Perch is closed, or we could have our dinner at the inn.’

‘Have you lost your wits?’ Mistress Smith said sharply. ‘First I see you buying enough wool to open your own market stand, and now you’d be throwing more coin after that, to buy a meal at the inn, were you able? And you, not even travellers!’

‘It is an hour to journey home again,’ Hally said mildly. ‘And my poor wife will be weary when we get there, after all the walking we’ve done this day, and the decisions there were to make...’

‘It’s kind of you to want to treat your wife, but...’

‘Rosie, Hally,’ Gundy said, coming up to them, ‘I’ve about finished my business. Are you about ready to turn our faces home again?’

‘More than ready,’ Hally said. ‘If we leave without further delay, we might arrive before teatime.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Was there anything else you can think of, Rose?’

‘No,’ Rosemary said. Her head was whirling from all they’d already purchased. She wondered if it all would even fit in the waggon? Impulsively she took Mistress Smith’s hands and pressed them warmly. ‘It’s so good to see you, Hilda,’ she said, in all earnest. As the Bolgers were in the habit of going to the market only once a month or so, she thought perhaps that by their next market day, Hilda would not be so glad to see them, assuming their plans should succeed. She blinked hard, willing herself not to cry.

‘Won’t you all come for tea?’ her friend said, with a troubled look, as if she suspected something was amiss, though she had no way of guessing at the trouble.

‘No… no,’ Hally said slowly, with real regret. ‘I really must get my Rose-bloom home. She’s too near her time as it is...’

Hilda hugged Rose, laughing a little as their large stomachs bumped together, forcing them to turn side-to-side to complete the embrace. ‘Well, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll just give you all my love now -- for I doubt I’ll see you next month at market!’

Rose stared, wondering how Hilda had guessed, but then her friend went on. ‘After all, you won’t be bringing a new babe out in society until he’s a month and a day in the world -- and neither will I!’

‘But of course,’ Rose said, laughing a little herself, even as her heart felt as if it was breaking within her. ‘How could I forget?’

‘You’re more tired than you thought,’ Hilda said gently, and then she took Hally’s hand and placed it firmly on Rosemary’s arm. ‘You take your poor, weary wife home now, and when you get there, you make her sit in the best chair, and pull over a stool for her feet, and you put away the purchases and get the tea into the bargain!’

‘Yes, Missus!’ Hally said smartly.

Gundy gave him a nudge. ‘She’s got your measure!’ he said.

‘I’ve got my orders,’ Hally said in reply. He tipped his cap to the Smith’s wife. ‘My best to your husband, and your family,’ he said.

‘And give my best to Cora and the children,’ Hilda said to Gundy.

‘Your least wish is my greatest desire,’ Gundy said with a grand bow that made the Smith’s wife giggle. ‘Come now, brother, sister… I think my wife is expecting you to tea, if you’re not too weary, Rosie...’

Though Rosemary denied that she was weary, Hally said something to the effect that they’d see -- in any event, they needed to collect their little ones.

With another awkward hug, the two friends parted, promising to look in on one another when the babies were safely born and ready to introduce to society. Rose was glad that Robin was not with them, for he’d have heard the lie in her voice.

Hiding her dejection, she allowed Hally and Gundy to take her between them, escorting her to the waggon. She managed not to cast a wistful backward glance at her good friend, though she wanted to. No, Hilda was too sharp by half. If she saw such a thing, she’d want to know why.

She wanted to cry all the way home, but wouldn’t let herself. Cora, Gundy’s wife, would see her red eyes, as would her children, and they’d want to know the reason for red eyes and a sniffly nose. Hally, Rosemary, and Gundy squeezed together on the waggon seat, and young Andy trotted alongside, for the waggon was heaped high under its canvas cover.

When they arrived at Gundy’s, Andy escorted Rosemary inside, to the joyful greetings of her children, and Cora made sure that Rose sat down in a comfortable chair and put her feet up while she put the finishing touches on tea. Gundy and Hally came in a bit later, saying they’d taken time to feed the ponies and have a pipe, and it was the truth, though Rosemary suspected it was not the entire truth. They had a lovely tea, and if Rose was a little subdued, it was easy for Hally to explain it away as Rose having overextended herself, and in part it was true.

When they went back out to the waggon, about a third of the load was gone, leaving room for Andy and the children to ride in the waggon bed once more. Gundy winked at them as he stood with his arm about Cora’s waist, and Rose surmised that he had stowed away his purchases in a secret place, where his wife would not easily find them. He did not want to alarm Cora, not at this time, but he’d taken to heart Hally’s warning about future privation and shortages, and had spent most of his own savings at the Mill the previous day, and at the Market this day. He’d prepared as well as he could for the storm, and now all he could do was hope that it was enough.

That, and worry about his brother Hally, and Hally’s family.

‘Grace go with you!’ he called, and Rose could hear the sincerity in his voice. He’d never meant anything quite so much as he’d meant those words.

‘And with you!’ Hally called back, as he urged the ponies into a walk. He’d drive the waggon home, and he and Andy would unload whilst Rosemary readied the children for bed and their bedtime story, and then Andy would drive Gundy’s waggon and ponies home again, arriving before nightfall.

‘And with you!’ Rose added to her husband’s blessing, forcing herself to smile widely as she waved her farewells.

‘And with you!’ the little children echoed -- Bolgers to Bolgers, cousins blessing cousins that, if all worked out as they intended, might not be gathered together again for months… if ever.

‘O Hally,’ she whispered, taking her husband’s arm and leaning against him after they were out of sight around a bend in the road.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ he said, looking down at her, keeping his voice low because of Andy and the children in the back of the waggon. The tween was not in on the secret, and what ever conclusions he might be drawing from recent events, they did not need to add to any speculation on his part. ‘Whether or not we do this, buying out the Mill and the Market was the prudent thing to do.’

She nodded against him, sniffled, and looked up into his face, thinking of the list of Rules they’d seen nailed to the door of the Golden Perch, and the Men to be seen loitering in every corner, or so it seemed. ‘It is too late,’ she whispered, and at his questioning glance, added, ‘Too late for the Shire.’

He nodded, and it seemed there were no more words to be said.