Lately it's seemed like every time I go into Bree, something happens that involves a woman, and it's always something that's terrible or confusing, or more often both. There's Miss Peregrine, who for some reason wanted me to wear her glove and follow her to somewhere she wouldn't tell me. When I didn't figure out that puzzle, she seemed to stop speaking to me. Which brings me of course to Haritha, who took the time to tell me that she doesn't hate me, but does think I wronged her, though I can't figure out how. There's Miss Baker, to whom something angering and saddening and utterly awful happened, something I can't help at all with; I can't really tell anyone what, though. There's Miss Drel, the jewel-crafter Miss Adriellyn referred me to, who said my pendant might be worth something, but who for some reason wants to fix it first, which will take at least six weeks. That's a long time to wait when my purse is nearly empty.
And there's Miss Brynleigh, of course. I have always thought of her as the master to whom I apprentice. The knowledge she's sharing with me is of great value, and she's especially generous to take me on at my age, and even more so to accommodate me having other work and spending more time learning sword and practicing with the bow. How can I not owe her my loyalty and service, at least to the extent I can offer it? So if she doesn't wish me to go to Imladris with Miss Adri, I won't. And if she thinks my plan to learn more about tending the dwarf-bred riding goats, as a way to broaden my knowledge of stable-keeping, is a poor idea, how can I not respect her wisdom, she who knows well the trade in which I am just an apprentice? Both discouraging and disheartening things, but she later insisted that they were just her personal feelings, and I shouldn't take them to heart, or let them sway me. So I am still going to Imladris with Miss Adri after all, within the next few weeks; and I'm learning how to tend Miss Adri's goat Rascal, but it's still baffling to my slow wit, and discouraging to my sense of hope, that she thinks poorly of my efforts.
Even so, I squared my shoulders and started to head into town to see if Mister Aldiron had obtained a couple of the special curry combs used for riding goats, but only got as far as the Hookworth gate. It seems a letter had been left with the guards for me. It took me nearly an hour to read it; I need to practice more at my letters.
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Leoffrith, son of Leoffler: Jessamine and the other horses you led to Trestlebridge (how can it be spelled Trestle? Shouldn't it be Tressel? Wouldn't Trestle be pronounced Tress-tull?) are doing quite well. Word has recently reached me that the stable-keeper at the Forsaken Inn has sadly lost a horse to goblins. (I had to stop reading for a bit at this point.) At least it was one of their old nags who was near old enough to be put out to pasture, but it breaks the heart to think what must have happened to her. I've received an order for a new mare to be sent to them immediately, but Gaelm is off bringing the colt Brynleigh trained to his new owner, Gil is under the weather, and Will is meeting a buyer, so I can't leave right now, not even for a couple of days. I know you still need work, so there's a few silver in it for you if you can spare a couple of days to come collect the mare and deliver it swiftly. I know Kestrel is up to the challenge; he is as fine a steed as I've known in the North and the match of most even from the South. Please hasten to the farm if you can. Emma's made extra stew. Éogar, son of Hadorgar |
It didn't take long to gather a few supplies, as well as my bow and quiver, and start on a gallop towards the farm. A few silvers is a long, long way from the amount I'll need for tolls; Mister Baldmar told us a price that was higher even than I'd paid last year. But it's a few more silvers than I have right now, and it means another chance to prove myself, which could lead to more work.
