[piosenniel]

The garden had once been large, supplying the once lively and hungry castle residents with fruits, vegetables, and herbs, for flavoring, for pleasure, and for healing. Now those who remained within had all gone past those needs and the garden and orchard crept back to wildness. Still, she could see that someone had made an attempt at times to tame them back.

She and Olo worked steadily, methodically gleaning what they could from the tangle of vegetation. There was athelas, Kingsfoil hidden beneath the shading vines. And little flowers hiding the scented forked roots of ginseng. Lyre-leafed sage, too, and the golden stemmed lauriëtelco. Along the northern edge were the gray-green crescent moon shaped leaves of the moonfern, hidden beneath another planting of lyre-leafed sage. Along the wall’s surface was wolfberry, its pale yellow-green flowers hanging like little trumpets from the clustered leaves. From these she gathered the red, oblong fruits. She gathered up many of these finds, but always left enough to seed another crop.

Along the southern edge, always in the sun, was a familiar plant. Some sort of pipeweed, but nothing like the kinds grown in the Shire. It was more fragrant, and the leaves were larger and of a darker color.

Her last find, beneath the trees of the orchard, was one she could not resist. Amid the decaying vegetation and grasses were masses of glorious mushrooms. Big, fat, tasty mushrooms and small little precious mushrooms of al sorts and kinds. It was a Hobbit’s idea of paradise. These she knew would grow back independent of her actions, and she stuffed as many as she could into the pack on Olo’s back.

Periodically, she would glance toward Volondil, and when he waved her on she continued with her task.

Once done, they dimmed the lantern’s light to a faint glow, and huddled for a brief conference in the shadow of the pear tree. ‘I’m done here.’ She told the others, tucking the last of the seed filled cones in her pack, and latching the flap securely. ‘Shall we go?’ She turned to head toward the small gate in the north wall of the surround.

‘Back it up, Holly.’ said Bird in a low voice. She had flown down from the roof top and stood fidgeting on the Hobbit’s shoulder, a calculating look in her beady bird eye. ‘Gandalf and troops seem to have drawn the attention of the castle creepies. We’ve come this far undisturbed. Let’s go in and have a look-see. Maybe we can pick up a little something for our troubles.’ Holly looked toward Volondil and Olo, both of them indicating they would go in with them, though both made it quite clear their first choice would be to leave the grounds now.

‘In it is, then.’ Holly led they way beneath the cover of the orchard toward the back wall of the castle. They stopped well within the line of trees. She pointed out two doors near the opposite corners of the wall. ‘The stables are over there.’ She pointed to her right. ‘Along that southern wall of the castle.’
She pointed to the door to her left, near the northern castle wall. ‘Let’s try that one. It’s far enough away from the main action.’

They ran quickly to the latched door, passing by the three fresh mounds to their left. Volondil used the tip of his knife to pry the rusted lock from the rotting wooden door. The four of them passed in through the small door.

‘Shine that lantern a little down there.’whispered Holly as the four of them, Bird having now flown down to ride in on her shoulder, crowded into the narrow entryway. Volondil, being the tallest held the lantern up and risked a little more light.

They could see two long, thin corridors angling off from one another, one to the south and one to the east. The light glinted off something on the wall just a short distance down the eastern corridor. It was a heavy iron door, set into the wall on the left and was firmly locked and bolted. Handing the lantern to Holly, Volondil stepped close and attempted to pry the lock loose with his knife as leverage. And when it would not budge, he tried it with his sword . . .