Chapter Four - 1 Yule

As soon as it touched the treetops, the sun rapidly started its descent towards the horizon. Shadows lengthened and covered the road as the young hobbits slowly made their way south. Neither Merry nor his cousin, Merimas, wanted to miss any sign of Saradoc.

Merry halted his pony to get a steady view of the road ahead. He used his hand as a visor to see further on. “It’s getting colder now that the sun is setting,” he said, drawing his cloak tighter around him.

Merimas said nothing. As an apprentice healer, he knew all too well what the cold could do to one’s body. “Let’s keep moving. Eventually we will arrive in Standelf where we can find a room at the Inn there and warm our--”

“Wait!” Merry shouted.

“...toes,” Merimas finished off his sentence, but he, too, was now looking in the direction his cousin was. “That tree stump is moving or I’m a toad’s uncle!”

Merry had already spurred his pony into a run, racing down the road and churning up snow in his wake. As he approached the “tree stump” he once again halted his pony, and then he slid down from his saddle. His blood was beginning to warm up.

Sure enough, it was Saradoc sitting on the side of the road, uttering incomprehensible sentences. “Dad!” Merry knelt down in the snow. “Dad, it’s me--Merry!”

Merimas got down from his pony and was immediately at Merry’s side. He took off his gloves and right away felt the icy cold breeze against them. He rubbed his hands together and blew hot air (or, what should have been hot air) onto his fingers to warm them up. He slid his hand under Saradoc’s coat to feel for his heartbeat, and then gently lifted one of his closed eyelids. He looked at Merry, shaking his head, “I need more light.”

This last part of forcing open his eyelid roused Saradoc from his dream-state. “Cccold…so cold,” said the hobbit, shivering uncontrollably.

“We’re here now, Dad.” Merry and Merimas each took an arm and helped Saradoc to his feet.

“Whwhere’s Buckllland?”

Merry’s face wore an expression of absolute worry. “We are in Buckland, Dad.”

“I mmmeant...Bbrandy Hall.”

“It’s the cold, Merry. It’s making him confused.” Merimas reached inside the breast pocket of his coat and brought out a flask.

“No!” Merry shouted. “I mean…no thank you, Merimas.” Merry said in a kinder tone.

Merimas was puzzled at his cousin’s outburst. “But it’s just to warm his bones.”

“Distilled drinks do more than just warm my father’s bones, Merimas.”

“I understand. Very well, then,” said Merimas, corking the flask and tucking it back into his coat. “Let’s lift him up into your saddle.”

Merry looked around them, “But where’s Poppy?”

“His pony?”

“Yes. Do you see her anywhere?”

Both lads whistled for the animal. “Poppy!” Merry called out.

Merimas was growing very anxious for Saradoc; he had stopped mumbling, indicating he falling further into his cold state. “Merry, let’s get your dad onto your pony, and then we’ll look for his. We must get him out of the snow and to someplace warm.”

Together the hobbits were able to push him up into the saddle. Merimas held the reins of the pony while steadying his patient who was leaning forward in the saddle. Merry looked about the adjacent field for Saradoc’s pony. A few minutes later, Merry returned with a very frightened and limping, but otherwise hale, Poppy. “She’s his favorite; I couldn’t leave her to freeze.”

Merimas looked up at the twilight in the sky. “It will be dark before we get home, but at least we will be at home tonight, and warming our toes by our own fire.”

Merry carefully held the reins of his pony, watching the road around his father seated directly in front of him in the saddle. Merimas tied the reins of Poppy to his own saddle, riding slowly towards Brandy Hall. With any luck, they would all make it home safely.

~ ~ ~

Roasting meats and baking bread filled every tunnel in Brandy Hall. The residents and the few guests who made it mingled throughout the dining room and the common room, all dressed up in the finest the Shire had to offer. Young children ran about as the dull grown ups talked and gossiped--laughing at goodness knows what. 1 Yule had always been a formal affair, while 2 Yule was more relaxed. Esmeralda was also dressed up in her Yule dinner gown, but was in no mood for merriment. Her husband had been gone all day without a word, and then Merry running out to find him. She was seething, but at the same time, she was extremely fretful about them both. What in her right mind possessed her to let Merry run out into the cold alone? Presently, she noticed Saradoc's cousin, Marmadas approaching her.

“Good evening, Essie. You look lovely in your Yule dress,” he said, sipping the hot cider from his steaming cup.

“Good evening,” was her only reply.

“I noticed the chairs beside you are empty.”

“I’m not inclined to receive company right now, Marmadas.”

“Forgive me,” he smiled his reply, “but I’m not here for your company--although you seem like you could use a good friend at the moment.”

Esmeralda looked up at the gentle-hobbit that stood before her. “What did you want then?”

“Have you seen my son, Merimas?” He glanced about the room, “He went out riding earlier, saying he would return in time for Yule dinner. I am guessing that wherever your son is, my son is probably with him.”

“My son is out looking for my husband.”

Marmadas’ eyebrows arched in surprise. “Merry is out looking for Saradoc? Why?” He sat down unbidden next to Esmeralda.

“Saradoc left early this morning to go to the Hay Gate on errand.”

“In all this snow?” he asked. “I am guessing that he has not returned?” Marmadas watched Esmeralda shake her head. “Gracious me, Essie, I am so sorry.” After a few moments of silence he ventured, “I suppose then if Merimas met up with your Me--” But Marmadas never got to finish his sentence. A commotion entered the common room. It was Mentha who came rushing into the dining room to get Esmeralda, “It’s Saradoc--he’s frozen! Merimas and Merry have brought him in from the cold!”

Not waiting another painful minute, Esmeralda gathered her gown and made haste towards the common room. Folks were crowding around the mayhem, but Marmadas made way for her.

Merry and Merimas were cold and shivering despite the heat emanating from the large hearth. Now lying on the couch, Saradoc appeared as if he were merely sleeping. Several of the elder hobbits helped the lads take off their winter wraps and stood them in front of the fire to warm them up, rubbing their arms and legs to help the blood flow. Merry never took his eyes off his father. He watched as his Uncle Merimac and his mother struggled to take off Saradoc’s coat. “I think he’s dead,” said one hobbit nearby. When Merry heard that, his legs gave way and he sank to his knees on the floor. A younger hobbit lass was sent to find Mistress Salinda for Saradoc; the healer was also attending the dinner. “Tttake hhim up to hhis rrr…,” said Merimas, but the shivering would not let him form the words.

Marmadas came up to his son and handed him his cup of hot cider. Merimas sipped it, but mostly just held the cup to warm his fingers and hands. “Isss ththere any mmmore?” He asked, and promptly handed the hot cup over to his cousin, now sitting on the floor. Mentha left to get more hot cider for the lads.

Esmeralda did not know whom to tend to first; her son or her husband. She gave Merry a quick hug, ensuring that he was all right, and then was back at her husband’s side. When Salinda finally pushed through the crowd of hobbits, she immediately gave instructions for Saradoc to be taken to his room. There, Esmeralda would be the one to gradually warm her husband by lying next to him, giving him her own body heat, under a heavy quilt.

Salinda quickly looked at the shivering tweens, ordering them warm drink and food, then sent off to bed with a roaring fire set in their hearths.