CHAPTER 39

The next four days were much like the first since they had crossed into the Westfold. They travelled slowly but steadily, and stopped long enough at noon so that they could rest in the hottest part of the day for a couple of hours. On the fifth day, however, Mistress Poppy was worried about the heat, and they did not journey on after luncheon, but made camp where they were.

They had not gone far the following morning before they began to see signs of Edoras in the distance, just the Sun occasionally glinting off the golden Hall of Meduseld. Yet as much as they rode, for some reason, it did not seem they were really getting any nearer.

“There are many miles yet to go, Fredegar,“ said Éothain. “We will not arrive this day, but will camp one more night. We will not reach our destination before tomorrow around noon.

Freddy nodded his thanks for the information, and dropped back to ride alongside Berilac and Mosco. Beri kept glancing back to where Viola and Mistress Poppy rode closely alongside Artamir, who bore Clodio Banks before him. Mistress Poppy was very concerned for him.

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Viola allowed her mind to wander a bit. She was riding to the left of Artamir and Clodio, while Mistress Poppy rode on the right. In spite of the steady pace of their travel, she and Berilac had found some time to be together over the last few days.

She’d be very foolish, she thought, if she had no idea of where their friendship was going. But she still had some learning to do from Mistress Poppy; she’d never give up her determination to be a healer. Would Berilac be willing to wait for her to finish? And how would he feel about her practicing her profession? Would there even be a place for her in Buckland to do so? She knew his cousin Dodinas was training up a very competent apprentice, Thorn Mugwort. How would they feel about her turning up there?

She wished she had her sister Verbena to talk to; Verbena would understand, and always had good advice.

Berilac, riding up ahead, turned to look at her again.

And riding to her other side was Borondir, with Cado. And she was very aware that Cado Banks was watching her as well.

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Cado, secure in front of Borondir had been trying to watch his father, but his attention often wandered to the little apprentice healer who trotted at his side.

It was obvious to him, as it had become to everyone else in their company, that the two of them seemed destined to make a match. Clovis, when he deigned to say anything at all, tended to sneer at it, as one more example of how Brandybucks had all the luck. That’s what Cado himself had thought at first.

Now it just made him sad. If he had not been so stupid as to follow along with all of Clovis’ daft plans, he might have had a chance with a lass like Viola.

He noticed the Brandybuck was looking back again. He very quickly averted his gaze. He had no idea if Berilac’s temper was as volatile as Meriadoc’s, but he did not want to put it to the test.

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Freddy’s lips twitched in a smile. Berilac Brandybuck was very likely to go home betrothed, the way things were going. He was rather surprised that the shy Viola seemed to return the brash Brandybuck’s regard, but it seemed clear they were getting on well together.

They’d be arriving in Edoras soon, and he’d be able to send more letters back to the Shire. Perhaps he could write to Angelica again.

Beri was twisting around to look at Viola once more.

“So,” Freddy asked mischievously, “do you think she would like living in Buckland?”

“I hope so, I--” Berilac stopped abruptly, and blushed furiously. “Fredegar Bolger, that was hardly fair of you.”

Freddy grinned at him, and then his expression sobered a bit. “Truly, Beri, I do think that you could not do better--she is a very intelligent and attractive lass.”

Berilac smiled. “She is, that.” He tossed his head, and trotted up to ride beside her for a while.

Freddy bit his lip and rolled his eyes. He wondered what Berilac’s father would say if his son came home already betrothed.

By the time they stopped for luncheon, it finally seemed as though they were getting somewhere--Edoras did seem just a bit closer. But the plains about them did not change; they remained a seemingly never-ending sea of grass.

They kept their noontide halt this day a briefer one than the day before. Soon they mounted and rode on.

After what seemed several more hours they topped a small rise, and a few miles distant, they spotted a small copse of trees, which stood out starkly on the vast plain; they could see the glitter of water--a small stream ran through the copse.

“There,” said Éothain, “is our campsite for the night. We should be there in about an hour or so.”

The shade was very welcome, and there were still a few hours of daylight left when they reached their destination. Camp was soon set, in a practiced and efficient manner. Mistress Poppy saw to Clodio--making certain he was in the shade, with plenty of water to drink. She nodded approvingly at Cado, who helped his father to a drink. From their vantage point several yards away, where they sat trussed up, Dago and Clovis glared.

Fredegar and Mosco were seeing to supper. As they prepared the meal, several of the others decided to cool off with a swim in the nearby stream. Jolly, Rolly and Denny, Bergil, Legolas, Borondir and Anwynd were all soon splashing away. Berilac sat on the bank and watched wistfully.

“I’m surprised,” said a soft voice behind him. Viola.

He turned with a smile. “That I’m not swimming with them? It *would* be fun. But I was hoping even more for a talk with you.”

She sat down next to him. “Here I am.”

He nodded, and grinned at her, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just gazed at her until she began to flush.

She bit her lip. “I thought you wanted to talk.”

Now he blushed. “Oh. Well, I don’t really seem to remember what I was going to say.”

She wet her lips, and smiled again. His hand came over to lay atop her own, and her eyes widened, but she didn’t move her hand.

They sat and watched the others silently for a while, and then Viola said “It’s good to see that Bergil seems to have fully recovered.”

Beri nodded. “I know I was very worried for a while. But I was sure that you and Mistress Poppy knew how to take care of him.”

“He’s such a sweet lad.”

“I know. He reminds me a lot of Pippin at that age, except Bergil is far more serious.”

She did not reply to this. It distressed her to think about why such a young child would learn to be so solemn. She turned to Beri once more and their eyes locked. Beri wet his lips, and started to move toward her.

Just then there was a great splashing from the stream, as Legolas tossed Jolly from his shoulders, and Beri and Viola found themselves drenched.

“Oi!” Beri exclaimed. “Watch out!”

“My pardon!” called Legolas, with ill-concealed mirth. “I did not mean to splash you!”

“I’ll just *bet* you didn’t,” muttered Beri under his breath. He had come to understand that the Elf was sometimes possessed of a spirit of mischief quite as bad as any Took. But he could not really be angry, and Viola was grinning at him.

And then came the voice of Mistress Poppy calling from the camp--”Viola? Come along! I need your help!”

Beri stood up and offered Viola his hand, and they wandered back to camp. Mistress Poppy raised her brows at their sodden condition, and Gimli, who was doing something to the haft of a knife, chuckled.

“Don’t ask,” said Beri.

“I don’t have to,” replied the Dwarf. “I know how that Elf gets when he’s in the water. Why do you think I stayed here?”

Beri laughed outright, and went to fetch some dry clothing, more than a little disgruntled at missing an opportunity to kiss Viola. He would have to find some way to get back at Legolas. He sighed. He wished he had Merry and Pippin along--they were much better at such things. Freddy would just tell him to forget about it.

Gimli suppressed a smirk as he watched Berilac walk off. He’d seen that expression on the faces of both Merry and Pippin before. It looked like their cousin was cut from the same mold. Well, he wasn’t about to warn Legolas. This could be amusing.

Beri thought things over as he put on his dry clothing. He’d have to wait for the right opportunity, but he wouldn’t forget this. Newly dressed, he took in a deep breath of his clean shirt, smelling of the Longbottom Leaf he kept in his pack. He grinned.

He had an idea. He’d just have to wait for the right opportunity.