Joint Post of Child and Chathol-linn
The Ranger Hobbit left Harald’s house right after breakfast. The Mayor went back to his kitchen to think. He liked the large front window that overlooked the town. He ticked off points on his fingers, talking aloud as he always did when alone:
“One – Minastan is off spying on the bandits.
Two – Elmerith and Telien are rounding up some sturdy lads and lasses to repair the ditch.
Three – Rosco says the roads are not safe anymore. So are we cut off from the outlying farms?
Four – If we are cut off, how will we get supplies in to town?
Five – Berilac was clever to get the children to help him. But the hedge is worse than I thought.
Six– Will Farroweed and his gang are harassing Andreth’s school children.
Seven - Andreth has volunteered to work with Berilac and Rosco and the other hobbits to begin gathering in the foodstuffs.
And last but not least – Willofain says that Andreth’s Edmund is one of Will’s gang. Whew!”
Bree will not stand long if we put up with bullies in the streets, he thought. Nor will it stand if bandits overrun our poor defenses. What to do? Mum, you never mentioned days like this.
Harald pulled out a map of Bree, similar to Berilac’s, and marked the Hedge’s weak spots. Not good. He shut his eyes, thinking hard.
His Dad had always loved battle lore. Bedtime stories had been about great battles of old. Dad had even had an old book called The Art of War by one Thranduil Oropherion, whoever that might be. Harald had read it often.
Soon a plan began to surface – not much but it was a start. Harald rolled the map, put on his red neckerchief, and left his house for the Town Hall. I’ll have until afternoon until Berilac shows up, and I can think about this some more. But it turned out he had less time than he thought.
No sooner had Harald reached the Town Hall – halfway between his house on the hill, and The Prancing Pony Inn at the bottom of town – than Willofain came streaking into the big room. Her high, little-girl’s voice reached right up to the ceiling beams.
“Here, now!” said Harald’s scribe. “You wait!” But Willofain dodged him easily.
“Mister Harald! There’s a lot of folks over at the Pony, and they’re mad at Miz Andreth! It’s about those boys who threw something at Fippi yesterday!”
Harald took a moment to notice the hay in her hair. She had slept in Dantha’s stables yet again, and he would do something about that soon. But first – “Those boys used pea shooters, and I aim to see they don’t do it again. You stay here for awhile, Willofain. And you, Mr. Scribe – kindly go get Telien and Elmerith and ask them to meet me over at the Inn.”
“That’s a lot of fire power for a bunch of parents,” observed the scribe.
“They’re mostly for show, and for later. Tell them to send volunteer lads and lasses here.”
The scribe took off in one direction and Harald in the other. Willofain waited a few minutes until they were both out of sight, and then she took off too.
[ November 08, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]
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