* Gandalf, the last one down to the breakfast table, enjoyed a breakfast of eggs, ham, buns with elderberry jelly, and sassafras tea. After everyone had settled their accounts with the Innkeeper for room and board, all those attending the Council of Rangers at Sarn Ford made their way to the prearranged cabin. *
* The cabin was a homey wooden shelter. Travellers of good will were welcome to lodge in it for the night. As long as they cleaned up after themselves, didn't steal the towels, blankets, kettles, or other cooking supplies, and replenished the supply of water and firewood before they left, all were welcome. *
* The cabin was not plainly visible from the road ... you had to know how to identify the shortcut if you were ever to find the overgrown footpath submerged under several inches of water that led back through brambly thickets with grass up to your knees were you an Elf or tall Man. The grass rose deeper, were you a Hobbit. Gandalf had stopped before a section of green that looked on first glance just like all the surrounding sections of green, nodded his head, exhaled a mouthful of pipeweed smoke from the leaf Bethberry had given him the night before, and proclaimed it the shortcut. *
* The outside of the cabin was ringed all around by oak trees, blackberry and raspberry bushes, white and purple phlox, and yellow snapdragons strewn about with an inviting wildness. The interior of the cabin was comfortably dark and cool, smelling of wood and coffee and beeswax candles which some kind soul had left to replace the lower grade tallow. Logs were strewn around for benches, into which passing Dwarven merchants had carved sweeping designs (and sometimes runes denoting their initials) with a charming rustic artistry. *
* Eleven rangers were present to meet Gandalf and his companions. Agluchel was among them, smiling weakly and casting small glances at the floor, letting others do the talking. Introductions were made. Mugs of coffee were passed around. There were several pairs of raised eyebrows among the rangers on seeing so many people coming in the door with Gandalf who seemingly had nothing to do with the Council Meeting ... and one of them a Hobbit, no less! ... Arcon, being an expected and invited guest, received a duly cordial welcome in keeping with his being well known among the rangers. *
"Before we get started on the business at hand," Gandalf began, turning to Agluchel, ... "I believe you have a letter to pass into my safekeeping?"
* Agluchel blanched, and though a ranger, couldn't keep from trembling. * "Master Gandalf, I was told by Master Elrond himself to guard the letter with my life. I ... do not have the letter. Something has eaten it, I fear. Some insect during the night, same one that bit me, must've been."
* Gandalf, who'd been standing, dropped his pipe and sank down heavily onto one of the benches as if he'd been punched in the gut. His face turned as white as Agluchel's. The wizard placed his head in his hands, closed his eyes, took a few sharp breaths. * "That letter is irreplaceable. It dealt with White Council business. That bug must have been a servant of the Enemy, like the crebain that followed us on our way here. Why, had I that foul insect within my reach, I'd squash it into the ground so thoroughly with my heel that the tread of my footprint would remain sealed there until the end of the Age!" * Gandalf's voice rose dangerously at the end, but then he fell silent, into the deeper silence of the rest of the gathered assembly who stared in shock. *
* Agluchel winced, as if expecting lightning to tear through the roof and into his anguished heart. *
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