Mathom Hunting in Bree.
The air was thick with pipe smoke and the sound of conversation as Druda entered the Inn of the Prancing Pony. She had received a note informing her that a valuable Mathom was exchanging hands tonight at the Inn. The item had recently been bought in Bree’s busy market place and Druda hoped to be there at the exchange in an attempt to retrieve the Mathom. Some would call it stealing but Druda saw it different. This Mathom had already been stolen; she was merely bringing it back to the Shire where it belonged.
Druda had always found it was much easier to move about unnoticed in Bree, even for someone without a talent like Druda’s Bree was big enough for someone to go unnoticed. The crowds were always lost in their own thoughts and in too much of a rush to get from one place to another. Even the Hobbits here in Bree seemed hurried, obviously accustomed as they are to the general hustle of life in Bree. So it was very easy for Druda to mingle with the crowd and observe them until she found what she was looking for.
Across the room Druda spotted a likely suspect. He was sitting alone in the corner and unlike the rest of the patrons he was without a drink and his eyes kept moving from the table in front of him to the door of the Inn. He seemed nervous so Druda went from merely mingling in the crowd to a stealthy approach. It was a talent she had always found to be amusing, even at an early age she could sit ever so quiet and still and found that people just stopped noticing her. Using the shadows and the wafting plumes of smoke from the fire and the pipe weed to cover her advance Druda settled within a few feet of her target. Watching him closely she assessed for signs of strengths and weaknesses. He carried a short sword by his side but Druda noticed the rust around the top of the scabbard in which it was sheathed, a sure sign of someone who carried a sword but had rarely if ever used it in anger. His clothing was not expensive but he was dressed in clothing beyond the means of a common farmer, all signs that he was a merchant of some sort and would not pose a problem should force be required. There would however be a problem with the Town Watch who always kept a presence within the Prancing Pony. The last thing Druda wanted was to cause a scene, even if she did not live in Bree it was still a useful source of items and information and it would be difficult to come back to Bree as the Gate Keepers had long memories and rarely admitted known trouble makers.
As Druda watched a woman had approached the merchants table and sat opposite him. The two were in conversation but due to their hushed whispers and the level of noise from the other patrons of the Inn Druda could not hear what was said, but she did notice that the merchants hand kept dropping to pat a small box that he had hidden beneath the table. The woman was obviously of better means than the merchant, her clothing was expensive imported silk and rather than the neutral tones worn by most of the common farmers and traders her dress was a vivid purple and richly decorated with silver thread. Druda was wondering how such a woman had managed to slip past the Prancing Ponies less desirable types such as the pickpockets and cut purses but then she noticed the hulking figure that stood behind the woman. It was of a man at least six feet in height and clad in a heavy mail shirt and in his hand was a large club of heavy oak and iron, he was stood at a distance scanning the crowd who seemed to have had mysteriously moved away from the table to a distance roughly equal to that of the length of his club. If he got involved the Watch would be the least of Druda’s worries.
The conversation between the woman and merchant continued until the woman drew out a large heavy looking pouch, the payment was about to take place and the box would soon be in the hands of the woman and her hulking cohort. Druda scanned the room looking for something that she could use to try and distract them long enough to make a grab for the box. The nearby fire had recently had fresh logs added and was burning fiercely and this gave Druda an idea. The whole of the Shire had been celebrating the coming spring and nearly every night a party had been held in one village or another and, as everyone knows, Hobbits love a good display of fireworks to end a n evening so over the last week there had been enough fireworks entering the Shire to blown the whole Town of Bree to Misty Mountains and back. Druda had managed to get her hands on a fair quantity of the fireworks and found that when dismantled the mysterious powder inside was a very useful tool in the Burglars bag of tricks. Quickly Druda pulled out a small pouch of the powder and with a flick of the wrist catapulted it into the fire. A few seconds went by before with a flash the powder ignited with a loud bang and an even bigger cloud of soot, smoke and sparks. People all over the inn scattered and ducked to avoid the thick black soot. Druda made her move, she leapt from her chair and rolled beneath the table, she grabbed the box and scampered under a neighbouring table. There were still shouts and screams sounding out from around the Inn and several people were busy stamping out small fires caused by the sparks. Druda stood up with the box tucked firmly under her arm and nonchalantly made for the door; she did not look back to the table, even as she heard a fresh scream, of rage this time. A good burglar knows never to look back; it only draws attention to yourself when someone is on the lookout for a culprit.
The door was suddenly opened and Druda saw a number of the Bree Watch come running in to investigate. One of the Guards said a quick “Sorry Miss” as he knocked Druda on his way in. Druda nodded politely and slipped past and out into the cool night air. She was keen to avoid anyone who may have noticed her from following so with one fluid movement Druda pulled her cloak from around her shoulders and turned it inside-out. The once green cloak was instantly transformed to one of black and Druda pulled the hood over her head and stepped quickly into one of the many alleys that criss-crossed the main street and disappeared into the darkness.
* * *
Less than thirty minutes later and Druda was in a small rented room in the Mud Gate area of the Town. The small box which Druda had recovered now lay on the bed as Druda knelt to open it. It was locked but the lock was easily opened and Druda carefully raised the lid. The box was lined in deep red velvet and lying in the centre was a necklace. Druda lifted the necklace and moved the candle closer to get a better look.
It was made of very fine silver and judging by the size of the chain it looked about the right size for a Hobbit, it would certainly have been too small for the woman back in the Inn. Whilst it may have been the right size for a Hobbit it certainly did not look like it had been made by Hobbits. Druda had seen enough Elven jewellery to see that this necklace seemed to have been crafted in a strikingly similar manner. The chain had a small pendant attached in the shape of a small flower, it looked like a rose or possibly a Poppy. Whatever it was the design was typically Hobbit like in nature but the craftsmanship was again Elven. It was certainly a puzzle, a necklace made for a Hobbit using a Hobbit design but crafted by an Elf.
Druda placed the necklace back in the box and locked it. The strange object was certainly an interesting Mathom but she was not about to return to The Shire until she had found out a little more about it.
