They reached Hoarwelling at dusk, a sizeable town
strung along the banks of the river that gave it its
name. The fair ground was south of the town proper, a
large close mown field bustling with merchants and
peddlers unloading carts and pack trains and barges
tied up at the riverbank jetties. The light from the
clear, palely glowing sky was augmented by lanterns
strung between the poles marking out temporary
streets.

A town official, distinguished by the feather in
his cap, greeted Glewellin familiarly as Lewin,
accepted a handful of silver and showed them to a
spacious lot outlined by string and posts. The Elves,
with the brisk efficiency of long practice, unloaded
trestles and boards from the fourth cart then erected
a large tent, striped in Lord Elrond's colors of blue
and silver and white, over them. Then they set up the
tables and began laying out bolts of cloth, boxes of
fruit and bottles of cordial, helped by Mother and
Nuneth.

The children slipped outside and saw booths and
tents, both large and small, going up all around them.
The fair would open bright and early the next morning
and nobody wanted to lose time and customers setting
up then. Townsfolk and visitors wandered, sightseeing,
along the lantern lit lanes between the lots, greeting
friends and acquaintances, criticizing the goods being
unpacked and enjoying the excitement.

"Hello again."

Estel turned to see Oswald Attmeade with his
redheaded younger siblings in tow, and greeted them
with enthusiasm. "Hello! I was hoping we'd see you
again."

"We didn't finish our game." Oswald reminded him.
"But I knew we'd have no trouble finding you, no
missing the Valley's tent."

"Have you been to many fairs?" Meleth asked Daisy
enviously.

"Oh, yes. Every year as long as I can remember."
she answered.

"Lucky you. This is our first." said Meleth

"And maybe last." Amin said ruefully. "The only
reason we were allowed to come this time was because
our Uncle and Grandmother were away."

"They won't let us leave the Valley because the
fells and the forest really are dangerous." Estel
explained. "It's not polite to contradict ladies but
your mother is wrong - Trolls are real."

It occured to him, too late, that Oswald might take
offense but the other boy only nodded. "I know. Once
when Dad took us with him to buy seasoned wood from
the Foresters one of them showed us a *huge* skull, a
Troll's skull," his voice fell, "*and it was solid
stone*! They turn to stone you know, if sunlight hits
them."

The three children had the wit to look impressed
and Oswald was clearly pleased. He was less so after
his Hare was quickly cornered by Estel and Amin and
perhaps a bit disgruntled when he and his sister Daisy
failed to trap Estel's Hare.

Amin tactfully suggested they stop playing, on the
excuse it was getting dark and the pieces might get
lost, and everybody gratefully agreed. The six
children went back inside the tent to find the Elves,
(though of course they didn't look like Elves to
Oswald, Daisy and Dickon) had just finished the
unpacking.

Glewellin opened one of the boxes of fruit and gave
the children a piece each. "Are you going to sleep in
the tent?" Dickon asked Estel, sucking on a candied
plum.

"No." Glewellin answered decisively for him. Turned
to Gilraen "That wouldn't be fitting, or very
comfortable for you and the children."

"Our father's bespoken two bedrooms and a parlor at
the River Horse," Daisy volunteered, "they may still
have rooms to rent."
***********************************************

The River Horse was a large inn between the
fairground and the town proper, with Mrs. Attmeade
standing on the front steps watching anxiously for her
strays.

"There you are at last!" she scolded. "Didn't I
tell you to be back here before full dark?" then she
saw Gilraen and smiled at her. "Why Mrs. Weaver, how
nice to see you again."

"Thank you, Mrs. Attmeade." Mother replied. "Lewin,
our chief carter, doesn't think the children should
sleep out on the fair ground and your daughter
suggested we might find a room here."

"Oh, dear." the other Woman frowned worriedly. "I
doubt they've anything but a garret or two left by
now."

"I'm sure that will do very well -" Gilraen began.

But: "No it will not!" Mrs. Attmeade contradicted
emphatically. "You'd be sleeping next to the dregs of
the fair up there; tramp peddlers and dice players or
worse!" she came to a decision. "You can share our
rooms."

"Oh no," Mother protested. "You're very kind, Mrs.
Attmeade but I couldn't possibly impose -" and was
interupted again.

"Frankly, Mrs. Weaver, you'd be doing us a favor,"
she lowered her voice confidentially. "The price was
*much* higher than we'd expected, if you could help us
by adding a silver piece or two we'd be grateful."

After much polite discussion they settled on seven
silver pieces; two each for Mother and Nuneth and one
for each child. "And a bargain at the price." Mother
told Mr. Attmeade when she gave him the money. *

He looked like he wanted to refuse but Mrs.
Attmeade was firm. "Don't be silly, dear, Mrs. Weaver
is quite right. And we can certainly use a bit of
extra silver!"

The parlor was a fair sized room, almost large
enough for ten children and four adults, on the second
floor of the inn with two deep windows looking out
towards the fair ground and a door at one end opening
onto a small bedroom with a large fourposter, and a
second door at the other end leading to a long room
with four white draped beds.

Supper was served on a long trestle table with four
chairs for the adults and three benches for the
children. A much better meal than lunch had been with
white bread and butter, two fat roast ducks, potatoes
and carrots on the side, and cups of apple custard for
desert.

Mrs. Attmeade and the two older girls, Annie and
Celia, talked to Mother and Nuneth about fabrics and
dressmaking. Mr. Attmeade talked to the children,
which proved even more difficult than making
conversation with King Thorin as he asked questions
that were very hard to answer without lying, such as
whether they were learning to be weavers and what kind
of school they went to and so forth.

After supper Mrs. Attmeade demanded, and after some
palaver got, an extra bed and two more sleeping
pallets brought up. She and Mr. Attmeade shared the
little bedroom with four year old Katryn and baby
Wilfred, who slept in the fourposter's trundle bed.
Mother, Nuneth, and the four girls had the large
bedroom with Daisy and Meleth sharing the fifth bed.
And the boys slept on pallets laid out in front of the
parlor fire.

"Now don't you sit up talking," Mrs. Attmeade
ordered, before closing her bedroom door, "We must be
up bright and early tomorrow and you've already sat up
much to late."

The boys obeyed her to the letter, much to their
own surprise, dropping off almost at once exhausted by
the varied excitements of the day.
**********************************************

* It is in fact a very fair price for four nights
lodging for five people.