Chapter 17

The ruffians left the little smial not long after the noontide meal. Hally had managed to beguile them with stories until the simmering soup began sending a promising aroma into the air, which was persuasion in itself. Elevenses consisted of the last of Rosemary’s bread from her previous baking -- honey in the dough kept it from mould and fresh longer than the bread from the baker’s in Stock -- sliced and soaked in goats milk beaten with egg from the barrel of eggs in the pantry, fried on both sides, and served with more honey atop.

‘Good honey,’ Three-fingers said, licking the fingers of his undamaged hand. ‘Where d’you buy it?’

Hally thought perhaps the Man was prospecting for future gathering purposes. Well, he could nip off that bud before it came to bloom… ‘Out in the Wood as I am, I keep watch for bees,’ he said. ‘This is from last year’s stock -- I found a lovely bee tree and did a bit of “gathering and sharing” o’ my own.’ He gave a wicked wink and grin, and the ruffians chortled in appreciation. True kindred spirits! ...or so he wanted them to think.

Of course, Hally in his gathering had been careful to leave a generous portion for the bees, so that they might survive the winter and return to their labours the following spring. But he kept that fact to himself.

When the soup was ready, perhaps an hour after midday, Hally helped little Parsley stir up batter for griddle cakes, and Bracken took a turn with frying and flipping the cakes, seeming to enjoy the exercise. The fresh-fried bread, slathered with melting goats-milk butter, and steaming soup made a simple but satisfying meal.

After finishing, Three-fingers got up from the floor and stretched. ‘Best eating I’ve had since we came to this benighted place,’ he said, and patted his stomach. ‘Why, Hally, your cookery is nearly as fine as your wife’s!’

Hally laughed and shook his head, then said behind his hand, ‘Hush! Don’t tell my Rosie that, or I might end up doing the cooking!’

The Men laughed at this, and then Three-fingers beckoned to the younger Man. ‘Come, Bracken,’ he said. ‘You’re thoroughly warmed now, I should say, and can go back and let Scar know that nothing passed you on the Road last night,’ he lowered his chin and stared sternly at the younger Man, ‘ ...did it?’

‘Nothing!’ Bracken said, and shivered at the memory of his watch. ‘Too cold by half,’ he said. ‘Nothing was moving on the Road, or in the Wood, neither.’

‘And I doubt me that any hobbits were on the Road this morning,’ Three-fingers said in dark satisfaction. ‘Not after the Smith’s story went round Stock… We threw the scare into him, we did!’ And he chuckled, and Hally felt a cold shiver go down his back, but somehow maintained his foolish grin.

Dining with wolves, indeed!

But all he said was, ‘Are you sure you cannot stay longer? It gets lonely around here, with Rosie sleeping so much at present -- and the children will be napping, once we’ve finished the washing-up...’

Three-fingers laughed his coarse laugh and said, with a nudge for Bracken, ‘This young one will be needing a nap of his own! He’s overdue for sleep, having watched all night last night, and due to watch this night as well.’

Hally shook a stern finger. ‘You be sure to bundle yourself well,’ he said. ‘The children are that fond of you -- to want to name the babe for you, imagine it! -- and would be heartbroken if aught ill were to come to you.’

‘I will!’ Bracken said with a chuckle, but the look in his eyes said that something in Hally’s words had touched his heart.

He was not a bad sort, Hally thought to himself, or rather, he wouldn’t be, if he hadn’t fallen into such company as he was keeping these days. Three-fingers, now, was a right ruffian -- a wolf of a Man -- but if they could keep on his sweet side by feeding him whenever the opportunity presented itself, that was all to the good. He’d be a prime source of information, Hally thought. Bracken might not be quite so useful -- though he had a tendency to blurt -- nay, because of his tendency to blurt, it was likely that important information that Lotho or the ruffian chief wished to keep from casual gossip would not be told the younger Man.

There was genuine warmth in his smile as he saw the two Men on their way, but after he closed the door, he shook his head. He might pity the younger Man, but he wouldn’t trust him any farther than he could throw him. Considering the Men were nearly twice Hally’s size, and growing broad on the hobbits’ gathered food, that wouldn’t be any distance at all.

***

Hally brought the younger children to snuggle with their mother and newest brother whilst he did the washing up with Robin and Parsley. The little ones had fallen asleep by the time the dishes were all clean, dried, and put away, so he carried them in turn to their beds, the sisters snuggled together in theirs, and the brothers likewise, and then he brought Rosemary another portion of soup and bread, and mugs of tea for the both of them, and sat down with her while she ate.

‘I hear you’re nearly so fine a cook as I am,’ Rosemary said. She dipped her bread into the soup and stuffed it into her mouth. ‘Mmmm, methinks the Men have the right of it! P’rhaps I ought to go out in the Wood and chop, and you ought to take over the household!’

Hally scratched his head and pretended to give the matter serious consideration. ‘You might have something there,’ he said. Then he put on a rueful expression and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Smial-keeping is much too difficult! Felling a tree and sawing and chopping it up into small pieces is so much simpler...’

‘Lazy-bones!’ Rosemary said, and Hally laughed.

The babe wakened -- they’d found that nursing babes often were wakeful at mealtime, though too young to eat a bite of solid food; perhaps it was the inviting smell. In any event, Hally set Rosemary’s tray to one side that she might nurse the little mite, then brought the food back and freshened her tea when she was finished, taking the baby in exchange. ‘I’ll just make sure he’s clean and comfortable,’ he said, and he did. When he returned he sat down once more and tucked the babe into the blankets between them.

‘So,’ Rosemary said. ‘Lotho has his Men watching the Road -- and at places in the Wood, I’d presume -- for Shire-folk who would withhold their goods from Gathering and Sharing.’ She shook her head. ‘Poor Will! And poor Huldy!’

‘You heard what they threatened, should he be caught again?’ Hally said.

Rosemary nodded. ‘There has to be a way to warn the hobbits of Stock,’ she said, ‘and the farmers and Wood-crofters hereabout. But how to do that without tipping our hand to our “friends”?’

‘They have regular hours, it sounds, and posts where they watch,’ Hally said. ‘I’ve been thinking...’

Rosemary waited out the silence that followed, as he sorted out his thoughts. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she closed them to rest a little while she waited.

At last he spoke, and she came fully awake once more, opening her eyes and sitting up a little so that he’d know she was awake. Otherwise he’d tip-toe out of the room, taking tray and tea with him, and pursue some quiet chore or other, leaving her to sleep. ‘I’ve been thinking...’

‘Yes?’ Rosemary said brightly.

‘Even though Gundy and I are not on speaking terms at present,’ Hally said, ‘we can still help each other in the Wood -- as we did that other time...’

Rosemary winced a little at the memory, for though that wound was healed and closed, it could still hurt to think of it. ‘Difficult to fell a tree safely, if you’re not talking to each other,’ she said. ‘And dangerous to work alone...’ And she thought back to how she’d nearly lost her Hally in the Wood, though it was a blessing in disguise for it brought Gundy to his senses.

‘Some things are safer done in company,’ Hally agreed. ‘In any event, we learnt to work together when needful, without more than the necessary word or two -- it would not seem out of character for us to meet two or three days of the week to work together to fell a tree… and he might benefit from the association, at that, though I’m sure he’ll grumble about having to work together, quite publicly.’

‘Benefit?’ Rosemary said, and sipped her tea.

Hally grimaced. ‘It would not be beyond Lotho to take it into his head that the trees belong to him, and hobbits must have his permission to fell one,’ he said.

‘No one can own all the trees of the Shire!’ Rosemary protested.

Hally regarded her seriously. ‘If anyone could, that one would try,’ he said. ‘You’ve stopped at home with the little ones, when I’ve gone with Gundy to hoist a pint -- that was before they closed the Golden Perch -- so o’ course you didn’t hear all the talk that I did, even though I told you as much as I could remember when I got home...’

Rosemary nodded, and waited for him to go on.

After a sip from his own mug, Hally said, ‘Well, I know I told you all the gossip I thought would interest you, but there was much that I heard there, over the past year, that I’m only now putting together...’

‘Putting together?’ she prompted, when the quiet stretched out.

‘This and that,’ he said dismissively. ‘Barest mention, sometimes, that Lotho had bought up this Mill or that Ale-house… but put together, I can see now, he was buying up property all over the Shire. He must own a fair piece of the land, and now that he’s got the Mayor locked away, and the Thain bottled up in the Tookland, and declared himself Chief over all the Shire...’

Rosemary blanched as the implications became clear to her. ‘But the Master...’ she said.

Hally shook his head. ‘From what I’ve heard, the Master was taken ill, or perhaps he is lying low because his wife is a Took and he’s afraid Lotho will remember that fact...’

‘He wouldn’t,’ Rosemary said faintly.

Her husband’s silence was his answer, and at last she nodded to herself and said with quiet contempt, ‘He would, that… Sackville-Baggins! He might even try to seize the Brandybuck fortune! If Merry hadn’t disappeared… Perhaps they’ll go after Merimac or one of his sons, to move the Master to Lotho’s will.’ She swallowed hard. ‘My brother said Vigo Boffin forfeited his holdings to Lotho, rather than see his only son hauled off to the Lockholes* on trumped-up charges.’

‘I remember,’ Hally said. ‘Being poor forest Bolgers has its advantages. But the Brandybucks have more gold than is good for them, in Lotho’s eyes. The only thing safeguarding them thus far is that he’d have a small uprising should he go after the Master, or the Mistress. Her charity is well-known throughout the Marish.’

‘And the length and breadth of Buckland,’ Rosemary said, smiling faintly at a memory. ‘I owe her much, myself.’ She sipped at the last of the cooling tea in her mug and added, ‘I’m surprised no message was sent to offer her sanctuary, as it was offered to me, and to our children. She is, after all, his own sister.’

‘Perhaps such a message was sent, and she chose to stay by her husband’s side,’ Hally said.

Rosemary nodded. ‘It would be like herself,’ she said. ‘What she lacks in strength of body, she more than possesses in strength of will.’

There was a short silence, which Rosemary broke by asking, ‘Do you really think he’ll forbid woodcutters from cutting trees? But what will we do?’

Hally nodded soberly and answered the first question. ‘What’s to stop him from claiming all the trees -- he might even put it in terms of “protecting” on behalf of the Shire-folk, and of course that means he’s the one who decides if a tree is cut or left standing, and no doubt all the nuts would be gathered for the “poor”...’

Rosemary nodded, instinctively cuddling the sleeping babe a little closer.

‘And...’ Hally said, and stopped. ‘But I’m distressing you, my love.’

‘I’ll be living in the same Shire as all the other “poor” folk,’ Rosemary said bravely. ‘And I mean the ones being gathered “from”, as I doubt many are being gathered “for” save the so-named Chief and a few of his cronies. You might as well tell me your thoughts, to save me the distress of thinking them up myself, if they’re that ill to speak...’

Hally nodded, and moved a little closer, that he might encircle Rosemary in his arms. Into her hair, he said, ‘And all the game...’

Rosemary gasped, and then took a few steadying breaths. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘And if he claims all the nuts in the trees, and the game in the Wood, then what are we to eat, my love? The fish in the streams?’ She shook her head. ‘No, I cannot see him leaving them to chance, once he has all the rest.’

‘We’ll have to make our own luck,’ Hally said. ‘Truth be told, there’ll be some hobbits who throw in their lot with Lotho and his louts, if only to keep their families from hungering.’ He put her away from himself and looked into her eyes. ‘Truly, my love, I bless your brother… I bless the day he came to us with his proposition, that I might never be tempted to do the same.’

‘O Hally!’ Rosemary reproached. ‘You wouldn’t! I know that you wouldn’t! You could not bring yourself to such!’

He smiled grimly. ‘Look on the bright side!’

‘Bright side?’ Rosemary said, and Hally laughed at her for wrinkling her nose.

‘I’d probably poach, and be caught and thrown in the Lockholes,’ he said.

***
Notes:

Folco Boffin's father signing over all his possessions to Lotho is mentioned in A Small and Passing Thing.

I had been told you can’t make butter from goats’ milk, as it is naturally homogenized. I did a little research and found that information was wrong. You can find lots of information online. One such site: http://www.5acresandadream.com/2012/09/goats-milk-butter-for-two.html