High, heavily forested hills gave way to a gently
rolling patchwork of hedgerowed fields and well kept
copices dotted with rambling thatch roofed farmhouses
and small villages.

The cart track became a gravelled road with walkers
and riders and carts and pack ponies flowing in from
every branching path. The traffic was soon so heavy
the children had to be lifted up onto the lead cart to
prevent their getting lost or trampled, giving them a
fine view of both the countryside and their fellow
travellers.

Just before noon they began passing houses built
alongside the road, at first only a few and widely
spaced then more, close together in rows with lanes
between them showing more houses behind. They looked
odd to the children's eyes, but pretty, with black
timbers making patterns against the white plaster
walls. And the larger houses had tile roofs instead of
thatched, and their windows were glazed with dozens of
diamond shaped panes set in metal grills.

Then the road forked, one branch heading south-west
and the other due east, with a big cobblestone market
square on the west side, bordered by little shops and
more houses. And on the east side was a very large and
grand building, some three stories tall and built
around a central court, with a carved and painted sign
swinging above the porch showing a Y shaped cross,
white on green, with the words 'Crossroad Inn' above
and 'Toby and Melinda Griffon' beneath.

Their cart stopped under the sign and the children
were lifted down. Gilraen took Estel's hand and Nuneth
Amin and Meleth's and all five of them went up the
three tall steps of the porch and through the big
arched door into a wide hall smelling of baked bread,
roast meat and woodsmoke, with long benches flanking a
brightly burning fire on one side, and and a tall
wooden counter on the other with an open doorway
beyond and a stairway winding upward at the far end.

A number of people were sitting on the benches or
standing in groups talking. They wound their way
between them and went through the doorway into a large
room, its low raftered ceiling upheld by wooden posts,
full of tables. And each and every table seemed full
of Men and Women talking and eating, with more walking
between the tables, cup and plate in hand, looking for
a place to sit, and all filling the air with a
cheerful noise of voices and the clinking of cups and
plates.

The children just stared. The great hall of
Rivendell, even at its noisiest and most crowded, was
never like this!

Still holding Estel firmly by the hand Mother
plunged right in, making her way, with many a murmured
'Excuse me' and 'I beg your pardon', to a half empty
table against the wall. The children were sat firmly
on the bench and ordered not to move, then Mother and
Nuneth both vanished into the crowd.

The other end of their table was occupied by a
family; a neat dark haired mother and a father with
rough red hair and beard. There were two girls,
Berya's age or older, as dark and prim as their
mother. A tiny girl eating a slice of bread and suger
and an even tinier boy pounding happily on the table
with a big pewter spoon. And, just across the table
from the children, two red headed boys and a girl
about their own ages absorbed in some kind of board
game.

Suddenly the older of the two boys looked up and
saw them staring. "What are you looking at?" he
demanded with a fierce frown.

"That game you're playing," Estel answered quickly,
and not altogether honestly, "I've never seen it
before."

Now it was the other boy's turn to stare. "You've
never played Capture the Hare?"

Estel, Amin and Meleth all shook their heads.

Disarmed by this astonishing ignorance the boy
pushed the board to the center of the table,
explaining how one player controlled the bright red
piece, the Hare, and his opponents the dozen white
pieces and that the object was to hem the Hare in so
he couldn't escape but since the red piece could hop
right over the white and capture them this wasn't as
easy has it might seem.*

The three strange children had finished their game,
by way of demonstration, and they'd just begun a new
one pitting the older boy against Estel and Amin when
Mother and Nuneth returned balancing full trays and
they were forced to put it aside.

The food was as unfamiliar as everything else;
brown bread and cheese, bowls of stew and mugs of
cider. But the children barely noticed, being much
more interested in their new friends. The older boy's
name was Oswald Attmeade and he was twelve years old,
his sister was Daisy and she was ten, and his brother
Dickon was eight. They, along with their mother and
father, sisters and baby brother, were also on their
way to the Hoarwelling fair - as was practically
everybody else in the room - but as buyers not
sellers.

Estel introduced himself as Errol and his sister
and brother as Melly and Amund and went on to say they
were from the Weaver's valley north of the Trollshaws.

Oswald was deeply impressed. "You mean you came
through the *forest*? Did you see any Trolls?"

Estel was forced to admit they had not.

His new friend was most disappointed. "But the
forest is supposed to be full of Trolls, and ghosts,
and all kinds of monsters!"

"Oswald, that is superstitious nonsense." Mrs.
Attmeade said firmly. "The forest is quite dangerous
enough, what with outlaws and wild animals, without
imagining ghosts and Trolls. You know I don't believe
in such things."

Estel, whose own grandfather had been killed by
Stone Trolls, opened his mouth to object, caught a
stern look from Gilraen and changed what he'd been
about to say. "We didn't see any Trolls, or ghosts or
monsters. Sorry."

After lunch Mother, Nuneth and the children went
out a back door, across the innyard and through the
opposite wing to a wide green field full of carts and
picketed horses and ponies, where they found the Elves
drinking ale and chatting familiarly with some of
other traders. Bregolas was nearby, confering quietly
with four other Rangers, who gave the children
inscrutable looks as they approached, before melting
silently into the crowd.

"Bregolas," Estel asked quietly, "how can anybody
not believe in Trolls?"

He smiled. "You will find, Dunadan, that many of
the country people do not. And have their doubts about
Goblins and Wraiths and other such things too. It
means we Rangers are doing our job very well indeed."
***********************************************

* Based on an actual medieval board game, as no doubt
many of you know.