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Observing a woman reading in the common room in old Barley's ever-rustic, ever-charmless public house has reminded me that I carry around my diary and yet for many months I have not seen fit to write in it. Why? I ruminate on this very question. Certainly there was a time, after my last entry, when life was too many ups and downs to be recorded in such a chronicle.
How do you say farewell to an adversary? How do you come to terms with the fact that an enemy has journeyed on to the next life? Sadness and sorrow for the loss of a life? Rejoicing that your own life is now safe and free from further ache and torment? Would you feel nothing?
A ballad of Bree-land recounting the death of Billy Foxtail, originally circulated shortly after the burning of Archet. It was initially popularised among singers in Combe and Archet before being soon transmitted to Bree-town where it was first printed.