Drawing Lines in the Dust

The talks at Isenbras Took’s farm and at the Grange in Undertowers went much the same as the one at Oatbarton. The crowds of listeners began to grow uneasy and, at about the same point in the story, finally voiced their outrage and pelted Jebbin with rotten produce. What the carriage full of Brandybucks did not know, because of their hasty departures from each location, was that in each one a clandestine meeting was held by those who had been more intrigued than upset by Jebbin’s lecture.

At Togo Goodbody’s, Isenbras Took’s and Myrtle Fairbairn’s, those home meetings had ended in the same manner; the hobbits there all demanded of their hosts to have Jebbin’s book read aloud to them. Those who were literate volunteered to take turns doing the reading. In Oatbarton, Undertowers and at the Isenbras Took farm, the smials of those who had first read the book welcomed their friends and neighbors in to hear it all for themselves starting the very next evening. For the next fortnight hobbits came to listen. Heads nodded in agreement. Questions were asked. Discussions arose about various points in the narrative. They wanted more. They wanted to have Jebbin return and enlighten them further.

But the meetings of those who remained at the two Grange Halls, and the one at the Crowing Cock near Isenbras Took’s holdings, also resulted in further meetings and further discussions. Those hobbits had no desire to hear Jebbin elucidate his version of the Travellers’ tale. They had no desire to hear him at all. The hobbits at these meetings wanted only to have the young upstart run out of the Shire. The old stories were what they knew and in each location there were several most convincing hobbits telling them that the old stories were all the Shire needed.

Soon it became noticeable on which side of the line a hobbit and his family stood. Arguments broke out in the taverns and in the markets. The Crowing Cock was a “Shirests” inn and woe be it to any “Seekers” who stuck their noses in the door. The Thyme For Tea tea room and pastry shop, run by Miss Thyme Marchfoot in Undertowers was a “Seekers” establishment where “Shirests” were served lukewarm tea and day-old pastries.

Nor were things quiet at the Great Smials or Brandy Hall.

The day after Jebbin’s speech in Oatbarton, Longo Caskbury, asked his employer if he might have a word.

“I suppose, Longo,” Macimas II sighed, waving his secretary to be seated in the chair the secretary usually occupied when taking dictation or notes of meetings. “Concerning what do you wish to speak to me?”

“Jebbin Brandybuck, Master Macimas.”

Macimas looked blank for a moment before the light of recognition came to his eyes. “Macidoc’s chess playing friend?”

“Yes, sir. I fear the lad must have contracted some ailment or such that has affected his thinking. It appears he is quite mad, sir.”

“And why does this concern me, Longo? Do you feel I should send condolences to his parents and . . . he was married awhile back wasn’t he? Condolences to his parents and wife?”

“No, Master Macimas. Although speaking with his parents might be called for. The poor demented lad’s wife seems to be as deluded as her husband, so I fear no good will come of speaking to her. They are, together with his brother and his wife, causing a most horrible stir over in the Shire. It’s to be feared, sir, that the unrest they are wreaking will eventually spread back to Buckland.”

“Really, Longo. As usual you are making very little sense. How could that bookish shadow of a hobbit cause trouble, even if he is mad as you say?”

Longo sighed heavily, hanging his head for a moment as though hesitant to share the grim news. The Master of Buckland could not see the sinister smile that graced his secretary’s face for a moment before he raised his head to gaze forlornly at his boss.

“The poor mad hobbit has spent a year, sir, rewriting the history of the Travellers. He claims all that has been taught for the past four hundred years is exaggerations and lies.”

“How absurd. What does he say happened?”

“That Frodo Baggins was the most important hobbit of the four Travellers. Well, he and Old Mad Bilbo Baggins are the important ones even though Bilbo wasn’t even one of the Travellers. That the whole fuss was over that ring they owned. He claims that your esteemed ancestor, Meriadoc the Magnificent, and the esteemed Peregrin the Peerless, went on the Quest only as a result of their own conniving and that they were almost forbidden by Lord Elrond to go on the Journey at all.”

“Nonsense!”

“Moreover, he claims that they did not lead the company that went east. According to him Captains Meriadoc and Peregrin were frightened and more than a bit bumbling. He says they were taken captive at Parth Galen . . .”

“Outrageous!” Macimas II slammed his fist upon his desk, interrupting Longo. “Traitorous! This must be brought to a halt. Why, no hobbit in the Shire will have any respect for the fair name of Brandybuck if they are told that Meriadoc the Magnificent was a weak, frightened captive.”

“That is a reasonable concern, sir.”

“I . . . we . . . I . . .” Macimas II was quite beside himself with rage. Actually, he was rather enjoying it. Here was something that would set his name among the great Masters of Buckland. Perhaps, perhaps even set him beside Meriadoc the Magnificent himself! “I must tend to this errant, deluded, traitorous, mad hobbit and his family at once. You say he and his wife along with his brother are currently off in the Shire proper?”

“Yes, Master, they are indeed off spreading this poison to the unsuspecting hobbits of the Shire. I think they feared to expound such nonsense here in Buckland, sir.”

“Have them arrested and returned here at once!”

“Arresting them will have to involve the Mayor, sir, and then he is apt to be the one to garner the praises of all the Shire and Buckland.”

The Master paused to think. “True. Go and find them and bring them back to the Hall. Better yet, send for their parents. I’ll have them write a letter to their evil sons demanding they return home. Yes. Yes that will be even better. That will bring them back and not involve anyone outside of the Brandybuck family.” Macimas II paused again. “Do we know where in the Shire they are, Longo?”

“Not exactly sir, but I’m sure they will be easy enough to find.”

“Well, let me speak with the parents. As soon as I have what I need from them, you will send our fastest riders out after the traitors. You are to send word to . . . to . . . What are their parents names?”

“Marrin and Clary Brandybuck, sir.”

“Yes, you will send word to them that I wish to see them in this office . . . when?” Macimas II looked confused. He wasn’t used to acting so decisively. Most of the affairs he dealt with were not as overwhelmingly important. He did not know that was because Longo usually took care of important matters himself while claiming to be speaking for the Master of the Hall.

“It is nearly time for second breakfast, sir. Why don’t you wait until after you have eaten, then you and I will work out the best way to handle Marrin Brandybuck and his family.”

“Splendid, Longo! No need to deal with this horrible matter on an empty stomach and a much more sound approach to work on this together; two heads being better than one, eh Longo? Or perhaps three would be better. Shall we call in my son?”

“No, sir. He left word on my desk this morning that he was going to Bree to visit friends and did not know when he would return. Shall I send word for Jebbin’s parents to be here after tea this afternoon, Master Macimas?” At this time, Longo had not received reports of what had actually occurred at Oatbarton, but he would soon find out that the Master’s son was with Jebbin Brandybuck; Macidoc’s note being a ruse.

“Yes. That will do nicely, Longo. See to that, then have your own meal. I will see you back in my office after second breakfast.”

“Sir,” Longo said as he bowed to the Master of Buckland before leaving the office.

To the best of Longo’s knowledge, everything was going exactly as planned. Jebbin and Other Brandybuck would be coming home in a couple of week’s time to find the Hall had become a stirred up hornet’s nest

*****

There was no denying that Adenbras Took, The Took and Thain of the Shire, was a bit addlepated but that often happened to hobbits in their early hundreds. No matter, Tollo Grittison had been running the Tookland the whole time he’d been secretary to the Took, as had his father before him. It had been as easy for the Grittisons in the Tooklands as it had been for the Caskburys in Buckland. Once the two families had worked their way into the confidences and graces of the first Master and Thain they had served under, it was easy to train up each successor to accept that it was really the secretary’s job to run most of the affairs of their Office so they had their time free to attend social functions. It had been several generations since either Master or Thain had been more than a figurehead.

“Sir?” Tollo asked as he poked his head around the Thain’s office door. “Might I have a word with you, sir?”

“Only one word?” Adenbras blinked his hazy eyes, looking about the room until he managed to spot his secretary.

“You are the clever one, sir,” Tollo said condescendingly. “You do always catch me with that. No, sir, several words, if I may.”

“Come in, you fool lad, I can’t hear you with you standing aways over there. Daft lad,” Adenbras added under his breath, which actually meant he said it quite loud.

Tollo came in and sat across the desk from the Took. “There is trouble in the Tookland, sir. Down by Isenbras Took’s holdings.”

“There’s double? Double what, lad? Quit mumbling.”

“Shall I deal with it for you, sir? I’m certain it’s just a trifle.”

“Oo! I like trifle! I like mine with extra berries and extra custard. Now hurry along and get me some before it’s all gone. There’s a good lad.”

Adenbras went back to trying to read a book. Tollo left the office smiling happily. No one could say he hadn’t told the Took and Thain of the disturbance at Isenbras Took’s. No one could say he hadn’t been told to take care of the matter - with extra berries and custard!

The really interesting thing was that Jebbin Brandybuck would not even be speaking at Isenbras’ farm until the following evening.

*****

Macidoc Brandybuck, heir to Macimas II, was an anomaly.

His mother was a sister of the current Took and Thain, being the youngest of seven children. She was eighty-one years old and not in the least addled like her eldest brother. Much had been made of the fact that she was the first green-eyed Took in several generations born in the Thain’s direct line. She had been given in marriage to the son of the Master because he had approached his father about wanting her. She never knew exactly how it had happened, but something told her that it had all been arranged by the Master’s secretary and her father’s secretary. Henceforth, she had never trusted either secretary.

Macidoc had been sent off to the North Farthing for long stretches of his youth. His mother’s favorite aunt and uncle had a large holding at Midton, near the center of the North Farthing. Macidoc had helped with farm chores, played with farmer’s children and grown up with more hobbit sense than any Master’s son had in many a long year.

He had never trusted Toldo Caskbury, nor his son Longo. For his part, Longo loathed and distrusted the Master’s only son. The secretary had early on made a good friend of the Master’s oldest nephew. Longo only hoped there would be an easy way for the nephew to inherit the title.

This trip with Jebbin wasn’t the first time Mac had slipped away without the nosey secretary knowing about it. The longer he, Jebbin, Other and the lasses were on the speaking tour, the more Mac began to wonder about the ferocity of the negative reactions in the crowds. He was certain he smelled a rat and he was certain he knew the rat’s name. Mac decided, as he and the others at last were heading home to Brandy Hall, that it was about time he dealt with his father’s secretary.