Shock and Awe

Chapter 17. Shock and Awe

The passage of the (south-)Tooks, with the Thain riding at their head, to the North Farthing was something of a grand event in the Shire. The journey took on epic proportions, at least in the eyes of the Shire-folk. Because it would have been unconscionable for such a procession to travel roughly thirteen miles across the fields, taking a direct line from Tuckborough to Bywater and northwards, the large body of Tooks followed a circuitous route that would add more than one hundred miles to their journey. 

('But doesn't the plan sound wasteful to you? Perhaps we ought to reconsider taking the long way round,' Pippin had suggested to Regi during the planning process. 'And think of it! If we were to travel over the fields to Bywater, the wheels of the coaches and waggons would forge a new road of themselves! No need for road-workers, even!' At the time, the Steward had deemed the sentiment worthy of one of his sternest 'None of your nonsense, lad!' rebukes. Though the New Road was coming closer to reality these days, they had not yet been able to work out an agreement with the farmers whose fields would be affected. Those same farmers would likely take a dim view of a road being forged without their blessing.)

Because of the difficulty with the farmers between Tuckborough and Bywater, instead of following a direct line as the crow flies, the riders and coaches travelled along established roads, including the refurbished Stock Road, which had quietly fallen to ruin beginning in Thain Ferumbras's time. One of Pippin's first decrees on becoming Thain had prioritised the restoration of the Stock Road, justifying the move as part of the Thain's duty to speed the King's Messengers on their way. (Of course, this decision also smoothed travel between Brandy Hall and the Great Smials, though Pippin airily waved away the idea whenever it was mentioned.) The body of Tooks also brought with them pavilions and portable kitchens and waggons of supplies, for no inn along their way would have been able to accommodate so many travellers at one time.

In sum, the cavalcade travelled "the long way round", from Tuckborough to Stock, where they set up the pavilions at the end of that first long day of travel. Master Merry and Mistress Estella took the Ferry to meet the Thain and Mistress Diamond for a convivial evening at the Golden Perch, renovated and refurbished after the Troubles, with beer that continued to live up to its previous reputation. The next day, as the Tooks travelled north alongside the Brandywine to the Bridge, Merry and Estella laid aside their usual labours for the day (despite the busyness imposed by Yuletide preparations on top of all the usual business) to ride with their dear friends in the Thain's best coach, a party on wheels of sorts. Their own ponies would meet them at the North-gate for the ride home to Brandy Hall the next morning, after another pleasant evening at the Stonebows Inn at the Bridgefields end of the Bridge.  

'The scenic route!' Hilly snorted to Haldi as they mounted their ponies on the Western side of the Bridge, ready to begin their third day of travel now that the pavilions had been packed away again and the gentry were climbing into their coaches. 'I wish we might've taken a page out of Ferdi's book...' The newlyweds had been allowed (nay, even encouraged) to ride across the fields to Bywater and enjoy two nights alone together at The Green Dragon while waiting for the parade to catch them up. Rosa, Regi's wife, was watching over Nell's children (Nell's and Ferdi's, actually, since Ferdi had adopted them, more or less, on their wedding day, though they retained their father's name of "Bolger" for legal reasons) in one of the coaches going the long way round. 

'At least you got to see the Great River you've talked so long about wanting to see,' his unflappable companion returned.

Hilly snorted. 'From a distance!' he said sourly. For Hilly was one of those rare Tooks with a fascination for moving water, whether it be dancing brook or flowing river or even, perhaps, the restless Sea.

Haldi laughed. 'O aye,' he said. 'And here you wanted to dabble your toes in it... and...' he cut the thought short before the rest of it could emerge to distress his friend... and no Tolly watching o'er your shoulder, ready to jump in and save you from your own foolishness...

Now the escorts sat their ponies, waiting for Thain and Master to finish their farewells. 'You ought to come with us!' Pippin urged Merry for perhaps the hundredth time since the two had hugged each other in greeting at Stock. Yet again, Merry demurred, offering no reasons that Pippin might refute (which Estella had advised him was the wisest course) and thereby putting himself at risk of being argued into giving in to his younger cousin's wishes... as in too many times past.

'Sorry, Pip,' the older cousin said. 'But I do hope you all have a wonderful time! And at least Samwise will be there to open the celebration, should you need to seek out a voice of reason amongst all the daft Tooks who'll be travelling with you!'

At the same time Pippin was protesting Merry's mention of "daft Tooks", Estella was telling Diamond, 'Bring me back something from the famous Yuletide market at the Faire!' With a sly glance at the two husbands, she added, 'Since my hard-hearted husband will not even think of tearing himself away from his responsibilities to take his hard-working wife on holiday!' At Merry's look of surprise, she winked at him with all the sauce she could muster. And, it being Estella, she could muster quite a lot.

But Merry recovered himself quickly. His years of close acquaintance with Pip and later years of marriage to Estella had taught him to stay on his toes. 'Yes!' he said brightly, taking Estella's hand and lifting it close to his face in order to scrutinise her fingers carefully. 'My work is not yet done! For you have not worked them to the bone – not quite yet, anyhow!' He followed this remark by gently kissing Estella's fingertips, enjoying the laughter of the hobbits around them.

Rising again from kissing Estella's hand, Merry said, 'Ah! But see – your escort is about to fall asleep in the saddle if you keep them waiting much longer! And the day is not getting any younger... You've a long way to reach Bywater by this evening if you are not planning to break your journey at Frogmorton, as all sensible Shire-folk do!'

But Pippin answered, 'While I would be gratified to give Ferdi and Nell three days of blissful quiet in Bywater, the Tooks who were left back at the Great Smials will make Regi's life miserable if we are away a day longer than the schedule he set out for them in persuading them that this diplomatic mission of sorts will not completely ruin Tuckborough's Yule celebrations!' 

Though his younger cousin's tone was light, Merry could feel the underlying strain in this rather long-winded speech. He suspected Pippin was in need of a good, long holiday... but the single day of respite planned in the North Farthing, combined with several days of travel to reach their destination, would have to suffice. 

From what Diamond had told Estella the previous night, Pippin would not be returning to Tuckborough by way of the "long way round". They'd reach Bolton around teatime after leaving Bywater – or that was the plan – and rest from their travels while enjoying Bolham the Red's hospitality. The next day in Bolton would officially begin when Mayor Sam opened the festivities at noon, leaving the morning hours refreshingly free of any scheduled commitments. Following the opening ceremony, the plan was to walk the market, which would also open at noon, and enjoy the Faire until after the lamp-lighting ceremony, when the festive lanterns with their coloured glass would transform the town into a wonderland of sorts. Afterwards, while most of the Tookish visitors continued to enjoy the evening festivities in the town, the Thain and the Defenders of the Tookland would attend Bolham's annual feast with the Defenders of the North Farthing. 

The next morning, the plan called for Pippin to rise early and ride southwards on pony-back, taking the direct line down the Oatbarton Road to Bywater and across the fields back to the Great Smials with his escort and Tookland's Steward. Everyone else would travel in relative comfort, with stops at Bywater, Frogmorton and Stock before finally reaching Tuckborough.

After Pippin handed Eglantine, Diamond and Farry into the coach and mounted his pony to lead the train of travellers, Merry and Estella stood on the approach to the Bridge and raised their hands high in farewell. They stood a long time watching the procession pass, until the last supply waggon had passed them by. (Though Estella complained halfway through the process that her arm was about to fall off, thankfully no such disaster happened). At last, both of them let their arms drop to their sides with a sigh, it must be admitted, and Estella said, 'So much for so little!'

'Eh?' Merry said, still staring after the tail of the parade. But then he turned, took Estella's hand, and tucked it into his elbow, tugging her towards the Bridge and their waiting ponies. 'What was that, my love?'

'For one day!' Estella said. 'It's madness!'

Merry shook his head. 'I'm sure Bolham knows what he's doing,' he said. 'He's a canny hobbit...'

'Did you put him up to this?' Estella demanded.

'I?' Merry said in astonishment. And then he stopped walking. Estella waited, despite the chill of the wind blowing down from the North-lands. Finally, he said, 'Y'know, The Red is entirely too easy to talk to. He reminds me of Frodo in many ways.' 

'I must say, I have trouble imagining Frodo with red hair,' Estella said inconsequentially. 

But Merry shook his head at himself. 'I suppose I did mention the hidebound Tooks, and their resistance to any new ideas, no matter how sound Pippin's proposed innovations might be... and the heavy burden they place upon our younger cousin as he tries to see his way clear to a brighter future...'

'And so The Red has invited half the Great Smials at this festive time to see how the "other" Tooks live,' Estella said. 'That sounds just like him. Didn't he invite half the North Farthing to take refuge with him in Bindbole Wood during the Troubles?'

'More than half, from the stories they tell,' Merry said thoughtfully. He patted Estella's hand. 'You may have the right of it, my dear.'

'As I always do,' Estella said breezily.

'As you always do,' Merry acquiesced, beginning to walk again, 'but I'm afraid we're going to catch our deaths if we linger here any longer!'

'Who would ever want to do that!' Estella said, hastening her steps to keep up with her beloved's long strides. 'That old saying has never made sense to me! For what person in their right mind would ever go running after Death to try and catch him, I should like to know!'

Like Pippin, Estella could always make Merry laugh, and he did so now, setting aside his concern for his cousin, difficult as that might be, along with the heavy burden that Pippin must carry since becoming Thain. 'Bless you,' he said.

'Why? I didn't sneeze... though I might, if it gets any colder!' Estella said. 

Merry couldn't help but laugh again.

*** 

After their restful week, Gorbyl looked and felt much better. Wallas used the excuse of keeping Lark out of the cold once more to spare the old hobbit the work of packing the cart with the greenery they'd sell. He and the lads managed everything that needed to be done. As a finishing touch, they decorated the cart by hanging garlands from the long poles that Wallas fixed at the four corners of the cart.

Gorbyl, however, reserved to himself the duty of telling the bees they'd be gone to the Winter Market for several days. While they were gone, a neighbouring woodcutter would check in twice a day to milk the goats, collect the eggs, and feed and water the animals. The arrangement benefited everyone, including the animals: the neighbour would receive payment (and the green-gatherers' tangible gratitude) in the form of the milk and eggs he'd gather while they were gone.

With all their preparations finished, it was at last time to make the half-day journey (at the walking pace of a hobbit teen) to the town.

'But will it be too much for Wren?' the old hobbit fussed, when Wallas and the childer insisted he ride upon the pony's back even as the beast pulled the cart filled with their wares.

'The cart is not as heavy as it might be,' Wallas said. 'I've dumped out the water from the buckets... In these freezing temperatures, the greenery will stay fresh in the open air of the market for as long as need be. That saves a great deal of weight in terms of the load Wren must manage. Moreover, I'll be carrying Lark instead of Wren this year.'

'Wren would be much too heavy for you to carry!' young Gorbi jested. The resulting laugh dissolved the tension between Gorbyl and Wallas, and the old hobbit conceded the point and allowed Wallas to help him onto the pony's back.

The town of Bolton was anticipating an influx of visitors from all over the North Farthing, which meant the inns would be filled to capacity over the week, and many of the residents in the community and its surroundings would rent out rooms to accommodate the overflow. Bolham himself would host the notables amongst the Southern Tooks – the Thain and Steward of Tookland and their families. His winter-fallow fields would provide plentiful space for the pavilions housing and feeding the rest of the visiting South-landers. The Red also ensured, as he did every year, that any of his band who planned to travel to Bolton would have accommodations, either in his sprawling smial or in the town.

Thus, Gorbyl's family was assured of warm beds and a groaning board while in town for the market's duration. In addition, Bolham provided the sellers' tables, along with the booths that stood behind the tables of wares for the market, including charcoal warmers and benches inside the booths where the vendors could rest and warm themselves should the weather prove bitter. Every day during the week of the festival, the market would open at noon and close at sunset with the lighting of the colourful lanterns, though the festivities would continue well into the night hours both in the streets and in the inns of the town.

Part of the market's attraction was the variety of vendors and their wares, including greenery, decorations, a plethora of items featuring North Farthing wool and wood and wax, and more. The smells of spiced cakes and biscuits, roasting nuts, and mulling wine would soon mingle with the mouth-watering scent of various meats roasting over open fires and the warm, inviting aroma of baking breads. Musicians would fill the air with festive tunes. A raised platform where the two main streets intersected was set to feature a rotating roster of musical groups, while wandering minstrels strolled from one end of the Faire to the other, including all the side branches, to bring cheerful songs to the vendors at their tables.

Thus, the town, a pleasant-enough destination during the rest of the year, was completely transformed during an entire week of Yuletide into a magical place, the embodiment of resisting the encroaching darkness and welcoming the return of the light with the turning of the year. Even on the evening before the opening ceremony, as Gorbyl's family and other visitors entered Bolton, the town welcomed them with the glow of the festival's colourful lanterns which were already lit and shining brightly on the eve of the Faire. Little Lark broke into a happy little song and clapped her hands, nearly dislodging Wallas's warm hat, riding as she was in a backpack he'd modified for her comfort. As part of his preparations, Lark's da had stitched woollen "pockets" to the holes he'd cut in an old pack for her legs. Her feet and legs thus had stayed warm throughout the long hike from the middle of the Wood to the town.

Wallas left off Lark and her grandfa at the inn where Bolham had reserved their accommodations. 'You can make sure the lass gets a good supper and goes to bed when she ought, whilst the lads and I set up our table at the market,' he said. 'And then we'll be back to see to Wren's comfort and our own suppers! For the morrow will be a busy day!'

To Wallas's relief, the old hobbit agreed with the practicality of his plans. And so Wallas and the lads drove the cart to their side-branch of the market, conveniently near the inn, and laid out their wares on their long table as attractively as possible. Then they lined up the extra buckets of greenery between the table, where whoever was selling would stand, and the booth where the family could take turns warming themselves. They also took down the garlands that had festooned the cart and hung them above their table. When they were finished, Wallas beckoned to young Gorbi and Flam to join him in the middle of the side street. He rested an arm on the shoulders of each as they stood and admired their work by the light of the lanterns shining in the street.

'I think that'll just suit,' he said. 'O' course, it may all look different by daylight.'

'I think it looks just as well as it did last year!' Gorbi said, and Flam added, 'I think Grandfa will be pleased! Especially with your idea to add bows made of Mum's red ribbon!'

'Well the spool of ribbon was doing nobody any good sitting in a chest,' Wallas said. 'And when I asked Granda, he said he thought our Dove would agree... so you can thank your mum for the festive touches more'n your old da, I should think.'

For his effort to include Dove in their efforts, he received tight hugs from the young hobbits, until he protested that he felt like the middle part of a sandwich, being squeezed between two slices of bread – and that was making him hungry! ...and weren't they wanting their suppers as well?

When they returned to the Third Breakfast, the inn where they were staying, the lads helped Wallas put Wren away in his reserved stall. Wallas was pleased to see that the waiting bedding was piled deep, the haynet and feedbox were filled, and the well-scrubbed water bucket held a fresh supply of water. He pointed out the innkeeper's attention to detail to the lads. 'If the innkeeper's hospitality is anything like the ostler's, we should do very well indeed!'

'The Red holds hobbits to an exacting standard,' young Gorbi informed him. 'The landlord knows which side his bread is buttered on! And since Jabo's also one of Bolham's band, he sees his efforts as a way of honouring Grandfa – and you – for your service to the hobbits of the North Farthing, by making sure we're all as comfortable as possible. Including Wren!' 

Wallas nodded thoughtfully at this illustration of Bolham's continued leadership and care for the hobbits of the North Farthing, long after the end of the Troubles. It reminded him of something or someone... if he could remember, that is... But the memory proved elusive.

He escorted the lads quickly past the common room, where it seemed quite a loud and lively celebration was in progress. He'd heard from Toby, the ostler in the stables, that a large body of South-landers had arrived just before teatime. 'The Red's putting them up on his farm,' Toby had said, 'but some of the archers rode into town to sup and try the local beer instead of what they'd brought with them.'

'Brought with them!' Wallas had been astonished at the thought.

'Aye,' Toby had said. 'The Red, he invited the Thain o' the Shire, imagine it! ...and a whole host of Tooks with 'im. And the Thain, he said – it's said about him, any road, that he said such a thing – that because he'd thought to bring so many, to introduce them to the wonders of our famed Winter Festival, he believed it best to order their "bed and board" to travel with them, so as not to put out the regular visitors from the North Farthing who come every year!'

'That sounds right thoughtful of the fellow,' Wallas had said, impressed at the level of planning such accommodations must have been involved.

'Aye, he's said to be full o' good ideas... exceptin' in the eyes of the Tooks,' Toby had said, scratching his head. 'But then, there's no accountin' for South-landers, I expect.'

Wallas had chuckled. 'I expect they'd say the same about North-landers,' he'd said. Toby had been dubious about this point, but he'd wished them all a good night nonetheless.

They found Lark and Gorbyl both asleep, and so Wallas and the lads were as quiet as possible as they ate the cold supper laid out on the side table and then deposited the trays that had held the food and plates and cosied teapot and mugs in the hallway to be collected by one of the servers.

Next morning, a light sifting of snow graced the opening day of the celebration. The vendors staying at the Third Breakfast arose early to break their fast in the now-quiet common room. 'What d'you suppose folk eat at third breakfast?' Wallas asked Gorbyl. 

The old hobbit laughed. 'Same as they eat at elevenses!' he said. Truth be told, he looked a bit tired, yet, from the journey despite going early to bed, and Wallas resolved to send the old hobbit back to the inn when it was time to tuck Lark in for her nap. While ostensibly watching over the lass, her grandfa would – hopefully – find some extra rest into the bargain. 

Since Wallas and the lads had set up their offerings the previous night, they were able to linger over their tea (and Wallas over his mug of milk) and  second breakfast and  third (meaning elevenses served a little earlier than usual, as it were), which had the benefit of keeping Gorbyl and Lark in the cosy warmth of the common room for longer. An hour before the festival opened, however, the old hobbit marshalled his forces, and they made their way down the main road to the side-branching street where their table stood. Lark oohed and ahhed in delight, while the rest of the family grinned at the bright decorations that hung from the buildings and lantern-holding poles and graced the market tables and booths.

Gorbyl pronounced everything in order and admired the added bright notes of the red bows made from Dove's ribbon, still as vibrant and cheerful as the day she'd put it away in the chest and tucked it under an assortment of table linens, away from the Sun's light. 'I think we'll draw a fair bit of coin to carry us through the winter months, what with our festive touches!' he told Wallas and the childer.

Crowds were beginning to fill the streets, and good smells were arising from the food vendors, and winter-themed tunes wafted from several directions as musicians warmed up their voices and instruments. At noon, the sound of a horn cut through the bustle from the centre of the town, and Gorbyl turned to Wallas. 'Would ye like to go and see the Mayor open the Faire?' he said. 'Just down to the main road and then left, to where it crosses the main street... That's where the dignitaries will stand, the Mayor o' Michel Delving and Thain o' the Shire and Bolham o' Bolton. There'll be music later, and dancing...'

Wallas shook his head. 'Too much noise for me,' he said. 'It echoes in my head, somehow. But you go, and take the childer to see the spectacle. It only happens once in the year, as it is!'

The old hobbit nodded his understanding. 'We'll join you here soon after the market is declared open,' he said. 'For believe me, we'll do a brisk business on this opening day, right up until teatime!'

'Last year, we sold all our greens on opening day!' Flam told Wallas in excitement. 'But Grandfa let us stay over an extra day so that we could be Faire-goers for a day and not just market-sellers!'

'Well then, I shall hope for the best, e'en though your granda told me we gathered much more this year than last!' Wallas said. 'And then on the morrow, Lark can ride upon my shoulders to see all the sights from on high as we explore the wonders of the Faire!'

Lark jumped up and down in her excitement and delight, while her brothers cheered the idea, and then Gorbyl shepherded the childer down their branch of the market to the street beyond.

Standing behind the table holding their offerings, Wallas heard a burst of music from the town centre, followed by a cheer and then a hearty voice, though he couldn't make out individual words. The Mayor, he thought, or perhaps Bolham. And then another booming voice sounded, and Wallas construed, accurately, in fact, that The Red had introduced the Mayor, and the Mayor was now ceremoniously and officially opening the celebration. More cheers punctuated the speeches. Wallas was somehow familiar with such speeches (probably from previous years at the Winter Festival and Yuletide Faire, he imagined), and so he knew that the speakers were recommending the various delights that visitors might explore, as well as introducing notable guests to the crowd.

But Wallas, content with his lot, had no need to stand in a crowd and crane to see the faces of those who'd won fame or recognition amongst other Shire-folk, nor even the other members of Bolham's band, with whom he'd be celebrating this evening. A small part of him hoped against hope that he might begin to recognise their faces by this time. It had been months since his... accident? Mishap? Injury? His body had healed completely, leaving no reminders behind in the form of scars or discolouration or lingering aches or other sign. Would his mind not follow suit?

At last, a flourish of drums, a blast of horns, and a rousing cheer signalled the end of the ceremonies and beginning of the festivities, and Wallas prepared himself for an onslaught of buyers. Luckily, Gorbyl and the childer were not long in returning. They'd stood at the edge of the crowd and had taken their leave before the final speech was quite finished. They'd also hurried, leaving Gorbyl enough out of breath upon arriving that Wallas sent him to the booth behind their table, presumably to watch over Lark as she benefited from the warmth of the charcoal brazier inside the shelter. The old hobbit's pallor worried him.

Almost immediately after Gorbyl and Lark disappeared into the little shelter, the Faire-goers thronged the market, distracting Wallas from further thought. Even with young Gorbi's help, and Flam moving between the tied-up bunches of greenery in the buckets behind them and the table where they'd laid out their display items to fetch the choices that their buyers pointed out, Wallas found himself in constant motion to keep up with the demand. Many voices gabbled at him at once, and the faces in front of him were continually changing. The entire street where their table stood was a joyous pandemonium of noise and colour and movement and varied scents. Luckily, Wallas was too busy to take it all in, or he might have found it overwhelming after the peace of the Wood he'd grown accustomed to.

Grown accustomed to... the thought fluttered at the back of his mind. After... what? The sudden realisation broke upon him then that he'd grown accustomed to the quiet Wood. Which suggested that he'd known something else, some other environment, some other kind of surroundings, before that time... The thought was disquieting, but he had no time to entertain it at the moment as one face after another pushed to the fore of the crowd. He maintained his smile, met each customer's eyes, followed their gestures, turned to take up the garlands or bunches of greenery that Flam brought him, handed the purchases to the customers, and accepted coins and passed them to Gorbi to put away safely... 

In the noise of the happy crowd, individual voices and even words were difficult to make out. Though some hobbits in the throng might have tried to talk to each other or to Wallas, they were soon forced to give up. Unless one was standing next to someone, shouting directly in their ear, one had little chance of being heard, much less understood! Thus, quite a lot of the buying and selling employed gestures and pointing or raised fingers – one for a copper penny, two for tuppence, and such, or a fisted left hand paired with counting fingers on the right hand for silver pennies in the case of more expensive wares, such as a woven blanket of Bolham's fine wool at a weaver's table...

So many faces... one blurred into the next, and if some seemed familiar, well, wasn't that the way of things with people? Everyone had eyes, a nose, a mouth, ears, chin... It was no wonder that some people might resemble others at a casual glance.

*** 

After the mother of the Thain had been introduced with the rest of the "notables" ("Notable!" she'd snorted to herself, though her fixed smile hadn't wavered. "Why, I'm just an old granny! What's all that notable about me?"), Eglantine had taken young Faramir around the market with her to give Pippin and Diamond some time to enjoy the Faire, just the two of them (with the inevitable escort following on their heels, of course). When Regi, who had charge of the escort and their duties, had been occupied elsewhere, the Thain's mother had persuaded Pippin that she and Farry would hardly need any escorting as they walked the market, and he'd let her off with little more than a murmur of regret that he wished he might enjoy the same good fortune. 

Unfortunately, that meant Eglantine had no idea where her son was at the moment – or her daughter Pimpernel and Ferdi – or any of the Tookish archers attending the Fest! – and just when she needed to find one or more of them, and urgently!

'Keep your eyes open, Farry!' she told the little lad. 'Let me know the minute you see your mum or your da, or your Uncle Ferdi, or Regi, or—!'

'I am!' Farry said, and for certain, his eyes were open as wide as he could make them, and his head was moving in every direction as he scanned the crowds around them, even as Eglantine searched the faces surrounding them and scanned the cloaks people were wearing... but would Pip's Elvish cloak, which had served him so well in his journeys, also conceal him from his mother's eyes in the midst of the crowds? She certainly hoped not!

Diamond's cloak, too, had stood out in the Tookland, but now Eglantine realised the lass must have brought it from the North-lands with her, for she saw many such cloaks of creamy wool embroidered in bright colours worn by hobbits in the surrounding crowd as well as hanging on racks and on offer in the market.

Suddenly, she caught a flash of bright red hair. Pulling Farry after her, Eglantine pushed her way through the crowd in that direction. Upon reaching her objective, she grinned in triumph! For she'd found some of Bolham's large brood, walking the Faire together. She grabbed one of the tweens by the sleeve. 

'Mistress!' he greeted her. 'Glad Yule!'

'Your da!' she gasped. 'I need to find The Red – and the Thain! – just so soon as possible!'

'Is there some sort of emergency?' a slightly older tween said, taking Eglantine's arm. To the rest, he said, 'Scatter and search!' Soon, his was the only ruddy head in sight. When Eglantine would have moved on, to continue her own search, he stopped her. 'Wait,' he said. 'They'll meet us here where we stand, but if we move, we might keep missing each other.'

It was a sound strategy, Eglantine had to admit, which was proved when another of Bolham's tweens soon came through the crowd with her father and Pippin and Diamond in tow, Hilly and Haldi behind them. Diamond quickly surged ahead of the rest and bent to ask Farry, rather breathlessly, if he'd been hurt? Was everything well with him?'

'What is it, Mother?' Pippin asked, reaching Eglantine and taking her hands. 'Are you ill? Do we need to summon a healer here in the town? Or would you like to go back to the farm and have Agate,' (naming Bolham's healer wife), 'take a look?'

When it came down to the moment, Eglantine froze under her son's intense gaze and the weight of his obvious concern. But Farry broke free of Diamond and pulled at his grandmother's cloak. 'Tell them, Gran!' he said.

Eglantine found her voice. 'It's Tolly!' she said. 'I'm sure... he's here! I know I've seen him! I'd stake my life on it!'

***