[piosenniel]

Berilac

Many of the Hobbit holes were on the upper loop of road that ran east off the Main Road, then dipped south and finally curved north once again. Here, on the upper slopes of Bree-hill was where Berilac was bound today, visiting the Hobbits, listening to their concerns, turning the conversations gently to the need for hands to help repair the hedge.

Many were hesitant at first, then warmed to the idea that their work parties could be Hobbits only. Some volunteered to come down directly to work on the hedge and some volunteered to take their wagons to the town’s dump site and pick up items that could be used to fill the gaps, while others volunteered their saws and axes to make the lengths of leafy limbs needed to lace across the rents and gaps.

The children, he explained, would volunteer to do a lot of the work in the smaller areas, he said – though they could only work a couple of hours each day after school was let out.

‘And what about them gates, sir?’ one of the families had asked. ‘No use fixing the hedge if the ruffians can waltz in through the gates!’

Berilac said he’d thought perhaps the Big Folk could be gotten to repair the gates. He knew the big forge in town was owned by one of the Big Folk families. ‘It’s us Hobbits what use the North gate most,’ said Elfrid, the father of the family. ‘Let that be our job.’ He pointed to his five brawny sons saying their family were all metal workers. ‘We’ve a small forge, but the fire burns hot in it, and there’s plenty of scrap we can be using for the hinges and bolts and the banding.’ He nodded east to where his good friend lived. ‘Sammael and his sons are the wood workers – they’ll plane the new planks for us. I’ll send my Tobin round now to get him.’

The hastily called conference proved fortuitous. Plans were made and a schedule agreed on. Tomorrow, Sammael and Elfrid would make their inspection of the gate and see what could be done and how long it might take.

The Ranger took his leave of the two men, thanking them for taking on the job. There were a few more families to see, and it was already nearing noon. He was just on his way down the path, when he heard his name being called. There, running toward him, all gangly like a colt, was the fellow from the Inn – the stable lad, Ban.

‘Mr. Berilac, sir,’ he said, panting from his exertions. ‘Miz Andreth has sent me to bring you this note. It would have reached you sooner, but I went to Mausi Honeysuckle’s house first and she sent me looking for you here.’ Ban paused for breath while Berilac read through the note.

Could you please come by after school, it said, and discuss a matter of some concern to me. My son, Edmund, – I need some help getting him in hand somehow and changing his attitude.

I know you are organizing some of the work parties to repair the defenses. Might you find a place for Edmund to be of some use? Or perhaps give me some suggestions.

My thanks in advance,

Andreth Woolthistle

‘Tell your Mistress I’ll be there directly, I have just two more folks to see.’ Berilac watched as Ban ran back down the path.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The last hole on the crest of Bree-hill was that of the Comfreys. Delphinia and Everard were home, their two children Pearl and Hamson at school. Delphinia was busy in her garden, gathering up the ripe bounty of the day to be preserved for the winter months. Everard was at work in the small rabbit pen – patching up the fence and securing the door to the hutch against the night predators.

They recognized Berilac from the town meeting and hastened to make him at home. A cup of cool water from the well was offered, and a seat in the shade of the elm tree. And yes, Everard would be glad to help with the hedge, and he could take charge of one of the groups of children if Berilac wished – a few hours in the afternoon would be just the amount of time he thought he might afford away from his patients.

‘Patients?’ asked Berilac, looking about the small place. ‘Are you a healer, then?’

Everard laughed, seeing the look of confusion on the Ranger’s face. ‘Of sorts,’ he said, ‘of sorts.’ With a nod at the missus, he motioned for Berilac to follow him.

At the edge of the little holding, where the top of the hill was lined with trees and low-lying shrubs, there was a series of variously sized pens and hutches. Almost all were filled with a layer of sweet smelling hay and in each was an animal of some sort on the mend from injuries or illness – a racous crow with a wicked beak and a broken wing that had been set with bandage and sticks as splints; a slow-moving weasel who’d been knocked in the head by a rock from a sling shot and was blind in one eye; a grey striped cat with a chewed up ear and scabbed shoulder and her four kittens; a noisy goose with one crippled leg in a nearby pen with two ducklings she’d adopted, their mother done in by a marten. In another, one little three legged fox, the unfortunate victim of a farmer’s cunning trap, and in the small pen nearby, one scruffy pony, bony and knock-kneed, found abandoned in Chetwood on one of the family’s firewood expeditions. ‘He’s healthy enough now,’ said Everard, running his hand along the pony’s flank. ‘But he’ll ne’er be a beauty.’

It was evident to Berilac that this was something that Everard quite enjoyed doing, and from the looks of those he had worked on, he had some skill in doing so. At the back of his mind, he was thinking of what Kali had told him about Edmund and his squirrel. He smiled as he said his farewells to the Comfreys and took himself down the road to the Inn.

The children had all gone home with the Big Folk who had promised to walk them home that day. Miz Andreth was in her classroom, straightening up the chairs and tables and putting the slates and chalk away when he rapped on the frame of the open door and waited for her to see him.

‘I’ve come to see if Edmund can assist us over the next few days,’ he said to her as she straightened up and walked toward him. He could see Edmund hanging back in the shadows. ‘Might he be available to help us with the hedge?’

[ November 10, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]