Berilac suppressed a chuckle as Andreth led him into her ‘hideaway’. There were piles of papers, precariously balanced on her desk, the top of which he could not see. Discrete piles of papers, her own filing system he presumed . . . and books with narrow ribbons of paper marking important passages piled happenstance on the floor. On the two shelves that hung precariously on the longest wall were more books wedged upright between two pieces of interesting rock as bookends; a dusty bouquet of dried flowers, tied up with a now frayed blue ribbon; a small oval, framed portrait of a man’s face – his eyes smiling and a laugh lingering on his lips. Numerous other small items he could not make out in the dim light of the little lamp she’d lit were scattered here and there in the empty spaces along the length of the shelf.
‘She’s a Hobbit at heart!’ he thought, glancing about the room. He felt comfortable here in this oversized burrow, the familiar clutter of it reminding him of his own study. All it needed were a few old maps pinned here and there, and it would be like home.
He listened carefully to her ideas and her disappointment in the answer she had gotten from the Mayor. And as she spoke, he was already planning how he might offer the services of Griffo, his brother-in-law, and for that matter, those of Tomlin, too. Her words wound to an end with a question, the rise of her voice at the end of it prompting him to refocus a bit from his woolgathering.
‘Big and burly. And not afraid of a hard day’s work. They would need wagons, of course, but that shouldn’t be a problem. The big wagons used for haying would be ideal. It could all be brought down to Staddle in the smaller farm wagons, then hauled in with the haying wagons through the South Gate . . . Yes, that should work . . . and if Griffo could get some of the Big Folk to help out . . . they could see to the Men’s farm’s . . .’
He glanced up, noting that she was staring at him, a perplexed look on her face. ‘Oh, you’ll have to excuse me. I often think out loud. It irritates my wife no end at times.’
He sat forward in his chair and told her about his talk with Griffo at the end of the meeting. At that point he had only been thinking about getting the outlying families brought in safely when the time came. Now, he said, with her suggestions about stockpiling food, he didn’t see why the two tasks couldn’t be combined. Crops first and families to follow, he said. ‘And as for big and burly and not afraid of a hard day’s work, I'd put my brothers-in-law, and for that matter any of the Hobbit farmers I know, up against any of the Big Folk!’
He grinned at her, saying that of course it would be ideal if it were more of a combined effort and less of a competition, but he would take either to see the task accomplished. ‘Why don’t I just bring Griffo to see you early tomorrow morning, if that’s all right with you? He’s at the Town Hall for the night, and I said I would speak with him again in the morning. We should be able to hammer some rough plan out among the three of us, don’t you think?’ He was about to say his farewell at that point and head back to Mausi’s for the night, when the original purpose for his coming to see her resurfaced.
‘Oh, I’d almost forgotten,’ he said, ‘I came to tell you I would be picking up a number of the children tomorrow once classes are done. They’ll be helping me on a project. Can you tell me what would be a good time to come by?’
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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