[piosenniel]

Satisfied she had let the Dwarf understand her position, she left him happily to his ale and food and out doors to the courtyard to investigate the mysterious ladder she had found propped against the open window of Cami’s empty room. Going round to the back of the Inn, she spied the rickety, grey wooded ladder still leaning against the sill of the Hobbit’s room.

‘I’m surprised she dared climb down that old thing!’ There were a few rungs missing along the length of it, and one of its feet was broken off shorter than the other and had been propped up on a flat rock. ‘She must have been desperate to get wherever she has got off to.’

She took the ladder down and brought it to the stable where it had been stored. Taking one of the hammers from the small workbench just inside the building, she knocked the ladder apart, and consigned the pieces to the woodpile. Perhaps she could get someone to build her another one. If not, she would cobble one together herself.

Pio looked up to see Derufin coming toward the stable. ‘If you’ll get that fine horse of yours saddled up, Mistress Piosenniel, I shall take the good Amaranthas home.’ Pio’s brow furrowed, as she had not asked him if he would do this as yet. He laughed, seeing her expression, and told her Amaranthas had snagged him with her cane and let him know it was to be his task this morning.

The Elf laughed, then, and shook her head, hoping that Amaranthas would keep to her previous promise. She saddled up Rochfalmar, adjusting the stirrups in length for the Man’s legs, then let him lead her to the front steps of the Inn. The Hobbit stood there, her dark eyes glinting mischievously as the two approached with the horse. Derufin mounted first, and Pio assisted Amaranthas up to sit before him.

As she did so, she whispered in the Hobbit’s ear. ‘Just stick to the sights and tales about your neighbors, if you please. I would prefer not to be a topic of conversation.’

Amaranthas looked down innocently at the Elf. ‘What was that, Miz Pio? These old ears aren’t what they used to be.’ The Hobbit reached back and tapped the horse on its hindquarters. Derufin, unprepared for the forward movement, nearly fell off the back.

‘Hang on, dearie.’ came the voice of the Hobbit, clutching firmly to the horse’s mane. She waved to Pio as the horse trotted down the lane.

Pio went back to examine the area at the foot of the ladder. The dirt was scuffed, but it appeared at least one set of Hobbit footprints had approached this side of the building, coming she guessed from the direction of the stable. It was difficult to determine how many led away from the area. She smiled to herself as she considered the problem.

The ladder, at least, was gone. When Cami came back she would have to come through either the front or kitchen entrance. Pio would speak with her then . . .