“I can’t believe it, Morchandir! This has been the best birthday ever, and now I have so many new friends to share this home with! Look at all the little fellows!” Artie crowed gleefully as he spread his hands wide.
I stared at the huge pit in the middle of the man’s floor in his home. It had dirt, rocks, and plants in it – and, now, dozens of tiny turtles. “Why did you have this in your home to begin with, Artie?” I asked, flabbergasted. “That’s not normal.”
“Oh, I wanted a small vivarium,” he explained with a wide smile.
I narrowed my eyes. “A… what, now?”
“Vivarium,” he repeated. “Like an indoor garden. Anyway, they aren’t well known outside of the elves’ homes, and even then, I’ve only ever heard of noble elves having them. I figured I would try to cultivate one here, and I’m so happy that I did!” He grinned at me. “That party was such a terrific surprise and must have taken so much planning! Thank you for being a part of it, my new friend!”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I’d gone there for the express purpose of slitting throats and shanking spleens to foil a potential murder and assault on members of the town. I just smiled as best I could beneath my mask, awkward as I felt, and tried to play it off. “It was nothing, trust me.”
He peered at me for a long moment, head canting to one side, and made a little sound in his throat. “Why do you wear that mask, anyway, Morchandir? Isn’t it stuffy and uncomfortable?”
“Extremely so,” I agreed. “But it protects my identity when I have to do things that… I can’t chat about at this point.”
He looked disappointed; however, it wasn’t at my lack of information or my mask itself. “You shouldn’t be doing those things,” he scolded me. “You could get into serious trouble for them and then what would you do?”
“Be hanged, most likely.” I lifted my shoulders in a shrug helplessly. “If I’m lucky.”
He waved his hands at me ferociously. “That’s the point, though! You shouldn’t be doing anything that might get you a one-way trip to the gallows. Nothing could be worth that.”
My son’s face flashed through my mind and I shook my head. “There are plenty of things that are worth dying for,” I protested firmly.
“Dying for,” he agreed. “But not recklessly and stupidly so. Not when you have people who need you and count on you.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
I pointed at the turtles. “They take after you,” I replied drolly. “You should see the bites I have on my new boots from these little monsters.”
He brightened up. “Oh, they’re nothing! Just wait until you find one that’s regular-sized!”
I blinked. “Regular… sized?” My hands came up to gesture in a vaguely gourd-shaped way. “Like… a pumpkin?”
He sucked on his teeth a moment. “Well…” he drawled, “if you take legends and stories to heart, they’re bigger than horses.”
I frowned and looked down at the turtles in their little home. “These things?” I asked in disbelief.
“Some types are prone to getting large, I’m told.” He shook his head. “But that hardly matters. I doubt you’ll find any around Bree! Even up in Nen Harn or the Midgewater Marsh. Plenty of giant spiders and goblins, though, that much I do know.” He beamed. “And walking trees, if you believe that!”
“Oh, I’d believe it,” I muttered, recalling the sting of roots slapping at me through my trousers. “I’ve had to… kill? Destroy? A few? I don’t know if that’s murder or just aggressive gardening.” I stirred. “I hate to cut this short,” I lied, “but I have to get going, Artie. It’s gotten late and I would like to get a room at the Pony before they’re taken.”
He nodded quickly. “Sure, sure! I should see about finding something for my new little friends to eat, anyway. Don’t want them nibbling at my sleeping toes in the night.”
I hesitated again. “They eat people?”
He laughed. “These little ones, no. Bugs and other things. But those big ones? There’s no telling. They’re big enough to eat whatever they feel like eating.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Visions of turtles big enough for giants to ride on filled my head momentarily before I shoved the images away. I could see why Grobo might be terrified of them even at their tiniest. I had to wonder if perhaps he’d been threatened by a giant one at some point, though I also had to admit that giant to a hobbit might not be giant to a Man or Elf. “Happy birthday, again, Artie. I’ll hopefully see you again before your next one.” So long as I didn’t have to infiltrate his friend group and stab them all to death as a present.
By the time I returned to the Pony, evening had fallen over Bree once again. I paid for my room and care for Neeker overnight before settling in with my things. I decided on a nice, hot dinner and listening to one of the minstrels playing in the commons before heading to bed would probably help me relax.
It was the stupid “Leland’s Lunch” song again and I rolled my eyes. Fishing out some coin, I flagged down one of the servers and ordered a pint of Barliman’s Best, given I had never had it. I had the urge to drink something after the day that I’d had. To be honest, I had the urge to drink a copious amount of something after the day that I’d had.
I lifted the mug of ale for my first sip and blinked in surprise. It was frothy and had a slightly sweet, toasted undertone. I could feel myself relax immediately at the taste. It really was one of the better beers that I’d had in my travels thus far. I was suddenly glad that I had some extra money to spare. “Mandrake shorted me,” I growled into the mug. “Three silver doesn’t even buy me a good beer at the Prancing Pony. I should’ve picked his pockets too while I was at it.”
I wasn’t much for wine or cider. My second round consisted of a Blind Troll Stout simply because of the name. It wasn’t as good as the first drink but for a stout, it was bloody brilliant. By the time I’d finished it, the minstrel had begun to sound good and my head had begun bobbing without my knowledge. It didn’t actually take long for the world to start shifting around me and sounds to blur, and that was before I’d finished my second Barliman’s Best.
I have no idea what I told one of the women in the room, but I do remember pulling off my mask at one point and perhaps dancing on a table with her. I staggered back to my room mostly unable to function and slept before I could even shift my position to get comfortable.
When morning arrived, I woke with a splitting headache. My mask had fallen to the floor from my extended hand. I felt as if a wagon full of stones had run me down and when I went to wash my face, I hissed at the pain. Touching my cheek, I felt it swollen and found a mirror. I hadn’t been punched, but I also had no idea who had managed to reach so far up to hit me. I went for breakfast and encountered a surprise. “Morchandir,” Butterbur called to me as I moved for an empty table. I knew from the sound of it that he wasn’t simply hailing me in a passing fashion.
I halted, turned, and made my way to him with curiosity bubbling within me. “Butterbur,” I greeted in turn with a gentle nod and a quiet voice. “Do you need something?”
“Mm. This came for you just a bit ago. One of the Mayor’s men delivered it.” He offered a small, rolled scroll as a message. “Need some water in you, by the looks of things.” He chuckled. “Daisy gave you quite the slap when you kissed her. Fell right off the table, got up, kissed her while she was up there, and she whacked you a good one!”
I stared at him for a long moment before replying, “I think I’ll have that water, sure.” That explains the swollen face this morning, I noted privately. I took the small rolled note and broke the seal as I turned and made my way back to the table I had chosen. I knew the innkeeper would want to know what was inside, but I didn’t want him to find me potentially having a hard time reading the words. Within, the note read, short and sweet:
Morchandir,
I ask, at your convenience, that you visit me in the Bree Town Hall. I wish to thank you personally for attending to an issue that has long plagued the folk of Bree. I hear that it was by your hand that the haunting of our town is ended, and I wish to see the hero of Bree for myself.
Graeme Tenderlarch, Mayor
It took me a few moments to read through the handwriting. Once I did, I blinked and frowned at the message. “I guess the mayor really did hear about it,” I muttered to myself. Straightening slightly, I rolled the parchment back up and tucked it away so that I could order my food and drink. I would have to stop by before I left Bree to find Saeradan and Radagast. Who knows? I told myself as I hurriedly ate. Maybe he means to reward you somehow. More money was never a bad thing.
Eggs, however, seemed to be. I sipped my water slowly and fought the urge to be sick for a good half hour before I finally visited Polly Leafcutter, the healer, for something to soothe my ills.
I headed out to the town hall after tucking away my laundered clothing and saddling up Neeker. Just a short meeting here and I’ll be on my way, I promised Gandalf mentally. I don’t think the world is ending anytime in the next hour, at least. If it was that crucial, Gandalf himself would have taken care of things. To be honest, though, while my head pounded and my stomach flipped and flopped now and then, I rather hoped it would end in the next hour and put me out of my misery. I would need to avoid Barliman’s Best as if it were a plague-bearing wight from here on out. Delicious yet devastating.
By the time I was shown upstairs in the town hall, I was ready to be gone on my mission. The short, dark haired man with a trimmed and neat moustache looked up from his ledger as I halted uncertainly near him. “Ah, there you are,” he said as he set his quill aside and rose to his feet. I didn’t ask how he knew who I was. The mask said it all. “However did you manage to drive out the spirit, Morchandir? I’m dying to know.”
“Not too far with that dying bit or I might need to put you back into your tomb as well,” I replied smugly. At his avid expression, however, I realized he was serious about wanting to know. “Well, it began when I had to travel into the Barrow-downs for a completely different purpose,” I offered politely. I knew this would take a little while and that I couldn’t tell him everything.
He seemed shocked. “You went there alone? What manner of mischief sent you in there?”
I grimaced slightly. “Nothing that I can reveal at this time, I’m afraid.” He didn’t seem willing to push the issue, and so I continued. “I came in from the west, through the Old Forest, and traveled the Old Barrows Road up over the ridge on that side…”
“The Old Forest, too?” he demanded, sitting back on his heels. “No, no, I won’t ask. I’m sorry, continue, please.”
I explained to him how I had met a wandering shade near the Dead Spire who had asked for my aid, which I had given, and how it had led me from one thing to another in the barrows before I managed to return to Bree. “The ring I returned to his wandering brother allowed the spirit haunting the alleys in the town know that all was well and he could again rest,” I concluded. “Which is what he did, as did the other shade.”
“Arthedain,” the Mayor marveled. “Such a long time ago in our history, but Bree existed back then even when the kingdoms around it shifted and changed.” He fell silent for a moment before continuing. “I had thought the reports of the haunting were drunken ramblings,” he admitted. “Imagine my surprise when I was approached by the gate Watchers at the South-gate. They told me it was you, Morchandir, that quelled the spirit once wandering the alleys of Bree.
“For that I am in your debt, as is this town. Please, accept this as a payment for your deeds, which until now had gone unnoticed.” He held out a small pouch to me. I brightened considerably as I took it from him. “Eight silver and 80 copper. I wish it could be more,” he finished. “I hope that you’ll forgive me for that.”
“Considering I spent most of yesterday catching and hauling turtles for Sig Mandrake for no reason and made three silver, I’ll take it,” I said as I secreted the little satchel away. Plus the whole night spending that silver and then some to get drunk, I added. I wouldn’t let the Mayor know that part.
He bid me farewell, and I exited the town hall. I took Neeker around and up toward the west gate before riding out of it and to the right down a dirt road that stretched forever, it seemed. I didn’t know how far I would need to ride to find the man; however, a cabin appeared just by the road. Not hidden enough, I remarked to myself as I rode past. The one I wanted wouldn’t be easy to spot, I was sure. Not impossible, but not openly sitting and inviting people to approach, either.
I searched and rode up and down the road for at least two hours before giving up and heading back toward Bree itself. As I passed the cabin again, I found not one but two people outside: a Man and a dwarf. Slowing Neeker to a halt nearby, I hailed them. Instead of a polite response, the taller man growled, “I am short of officers, newcomer. If you are here to aid me in my fight against the outlaws in the Bree-fields I welcome you without reservation. My friend Lofar may have need for you as well.” He nodded to the dwarf nearby in introduction. “If not, you’d be wise to move on to the town or be on your way.”
“Are you always so hospitable,” I drawled, “or are you making an exception for me?” I glanced from him to his dwarf companion. “I wonder if you’ve seen Radagast around lately?”
“Who?” grunted the dwarf, Lofar. That answered my question immediately.
I sighed. “Never mind. I’m searching for him.” I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “Why should I be moving on? Is it the brigands that are out here? I’ve encountered some already, actually.”
“Those men may have taken your friend, Radagast,” Lofar informed me with a jerk of his bearded chin toward the area behind me across the stream. “I wouldn’t put it past the blighters! Chief Watcher Grimbriar, here, has been doing everything he can.”
“Except patrol, it seems.” I knew I was being difficult. I couldn’t help it. They were law enforcement officials.
Grimbriar made a sound very close to a true growl at my words. “My job is to guard Bree. I don’t have the men to waste patrolling the countryside, but of late I’ve had reports of brigand-raids near and around the town. I need someone to look into these rumors, and I’ve coin to spare for anyone willing to help.”
Don’t do it, I warned my avarice. You have enough money to last you a bit. Don’t fall for the trap.
“There’ve always been a few outlaws in the hills and dales north of town, but it seems that recently they’ve grown both more numerous and more bold. If you can find out what is going on, it would be appreciated.” Don’t you dare! I thought with slowly grinding teeth. “Careful though. Once these outlaws would flee any armed man, but now they are more prone to attack without warning.” If you don’t tell him you’ll pass on this and move on, I began to think, only for Grimbriar to finish speaking. “The farm across the road seems to be overrun by the brigands…you could start your investigation there,” he stated with a point toward it, as if I had already agreed.
I turned and looked the direction of the farm for a long moment. “Pay, you said?” I asked, my eyes narrowing. “Just to have a look there? Do you want me to count the number of them? Bring one back to you? What is it you’re after?”
“To be honest, I’m not sure what to tell you to look for,” Grimbriar admitted. “If you encounter and defeat any brigands, or if you can search Dogwood’s Farm nearby, maybe you can discover something that will tell us why they’ve become more hostile. That would be a start.” He smirked up at me as I turned back to him. “You mentioned already having met a few of them. It shouldn’t prove terribly difficult, surely?”
I snorted. “Right,” I replied. “Neither was catching turtles, and yet…” He gave me a strange look and I shook my head. “There were a few leaders that I had to take care of for Adso at his camp a day or two ago. Are you sure that the brigands are still a threat today?”
Grimbriar hesitated and then shook his head slightly. “I haven’t received complaints in the last two or so days, it’s true,” he said. “Have you, Lofar?”
The dwarf grunted. “I have not, Grimbriar. I do have my own problem I’m willing to pay someone to help me with, however.” He peered up at me. “It seems that no sooner did I set my latest blade out to cool, than someone stole it!”
“However will I sleep at night?” I asked as I leaned down to rest my forearm against the horn of my saddle.
He scowled. “I didn’t see who made off with the sword, but I suspect it was one of those Man-smiths working out at Thornley’s. Their craft is nothing like dwarf-craft, and likely their jealousy of my workmanship moved one of them to steal my blade.” At my silence, he continued. “If I were to ask them about my blade, they would just ignore me.” He wagged a thick finger at me. “You though, by the look of you, are a great warrior.”
I looked down at myself from behind my mask. “Are you serious?” I demanded as I looked back up at him.
Lofar seemed to acknowledge I had a point from how his head canted to one side a fraction and his eyes narrowed. He was in for a copper, in for a gold, though. “Mm. All the same. If you were to ask them about my blade, they’ll be honest with you. You’re one of them. How about it, can you find my stolen blade?”
“Look, not all Men are very trusting of other Men.” I gestured toward Grimbriar as an example.
“They’ll still listen to you before they will me,” he said stubbornly.
I sighed and straightened. “Fine, why not? I had to be in this area anyway. Thornley’s site, you said?” At his nod, I turned Neeker around once more. “Left or right side of the stream?”
“Right,” Lofar explained. “It turns off to the left before it reaches the work site and meets the Everclear Lakes.”
I slowly turned back to look at him. “What?” he asked after a moment, looking confused. “Nothing,” I answered as I set off down the Greenway. If I wind up wet one more time… I swore silently.
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