Willie Banks had invited Calamint to spend another night under his roof but Calamint had declined, claiming to be too busy with work. In truth he much preferred Thistlewood’s company. As much as Calamint liked the hobbits, their company could be rather exhausting at times, especially with three ceaselessly energetic children running around the small house, bickering amongst each other and bombarding Calamint with endless wide-eyed questions until his head was spinning.
So he had spent the night in the little cottage Thistlewood shared with his elderly mother. They went back to the Mad Badger Inn in the evening to celebrate their newfound friendship. In the course of the evening one pint had turned into another, another pint had turned into ten or twenty, and when they had finally stumbled back into Thistlewood’s home in the wee hours of the night, Calamint’s head had been spinning again, this time from too much ale.
Now it was morning and Calamint was suffering from a gigantic headache. His tongue glued onto his palate and tasted like rat droppings. When he opened his eyes he realized he was not home with his wife in Bree and groaned. He was feeling miserable and suddenly home-sick too.
He shut his eyes and wished he could go back to sleep. Thistlewood was snoring loudly on the other bed in the small room. Yesterday Thistlewood had claimed that he never suffered from hangovers because he always slept them off. Calamint was jealous at Thistlewood for this ability. Calamint could never do that himself, and he couldn’t handle alcohol too well either. Sighing mournfully he rolled off the bed, threw up in a bucket, shaved and trimmed his moustache and finally walked out into the gloomy air of the late autumn morning in Archet.
He wandered off over to the market square. It was still early in the morning, but a group of old women had already gathered next to the fountain to gossip and talk about the weather or whatever it was old women liked to talk about. A drowsy mutt was lying on the pavement with it’s eyes closed. A couple of hens trotted about one of the stalls, clucking and pecking grains of corn from the pavement.
Calamint’s thoughts wandered back two days ago and he saw with his mind’s eye the black, glittering eyes in a thin, dark, haunted face again. That face had been too swarthy for a man of Bree. Tom, from Bree. That’s what the stranger had told Harry, the watchman. Here to look the place up, because Bree was getting too restless. So was it just a coincidence then that this hollow-eyed stranger had come here when the Took family was visiting relatives in Archet, only a couple of days after the assault in Staddle that had almost ended poor Paladin Took’s life?
Calamint filled his pipe with a patch of the finest pipe-weed from the Shire and sat on the edge of the fountain to smoke it. He was still thirsty. He stared longingly at the closed Mad Badger Inn across the square. One or two pints could fix what was ailing him. As he was still staring, the door of the inn opened and a woman stepped outside on top of the stairs. It was Bernice, the tavern-keeper. Calamint blinked. Was she beckoning at him?
Calamint stood up and knocked out his pipe on the side of the fountain. Smiling, he strolled across the market square to the inn. It seemed somebody had heard his prayers.
”Bernice”, he said when he had climbed the stairs and stood in front of her. ”You are the answer to my wishes.”
”You’re a bit done, is it?” Bernice asked, grabbed Calamint by his arm and practically pulled him inside. She closed the door behind him with a firm push. ”I don’t usually open this early, but since you are Thistlewood’s guest I cannot deny you. Besides, I was wanting to talk to you.”
Calamint went to the bar and waited as Bernice poured him a pint of light ale. There was a time to pay the piper, Calamint thought, but not yet. A few sips fixed his shaking hands. A few sips more and his headache was receding. Calamint put down the empty tankard and Bernice filled it without a word. There was an unspoken understanding that no coin would be changing hands at this moment.
Calamint was feeling much better. He sensed that there was something Bernice wanted to talk to him about. He looked at the woman’s mottled face and waited.
”After you and Thistlewood left last night”, Bernice said, ”another stranger came in.”
”Another stranger? And not the dark man? Not Tom from Bree?”
”Not him”, said Bernice. ”Not anyone from Bree. He had a foreign accent. And he was asking about the hobbits, the Tooks, where they were livin’ an’ all.”
Calamint put his pint down. ”He was, was he?”
”Indeed”, said Bernice.
”And did you tell him where the Took family was staying?”
”I did, sir”, said Bernice. ”I told him they were staying at Willie Banks’, I did. But I also said there was a constable from Bree here to watch over the hobbits.”
Calamint frowned. ”You did.”
”I did.”
”Did this foreigner seem inclined to visit the hobbits at Willie Banks’ house then?”
”He did not, sir. He ordered some food, drank a couple of pints and took a room from me. But then he also asked if I had seen any strangers here in Archet recently…”
”He did?”
”Aye. And I told him about the man with crazy eyes. He seemed satisfied with that and went to bed.”
”And where is this foreigner now?”
”Sleeping, I would expect”, said Bernice. ”In the back. He took the best room.”
”And you”, Calamint smiled. ”I suppose you have stuff to buy from the market. They are just opening up.”
”Oh aye, I do. I suppose I’ll be taking my time then.”
”That’d be the best.”
Calamint smiled and unsheathed his sword. It was one of those small, cheap swords the township of Bree issued to the constables, but it was enough to make an impression on Bernice, who skittered out in a hurry. Calamint stood and listened and heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing.
The floors creaked as he walked to the back of the inn. He stopped again to listen and heard nothing.
He tried the handle. The door had no lock so Calamint opened it and pushed it into the room.
There was a gray-haired man in brown robes sitting on the bed, fully dressed. The stranger did not seem surprised at all. Calamint had thought to rush into the room and shout about having him arrested and all that, but the man’s calm demeanor changed his mind.
”It almost looks like you’ve been expecting me”, Calamint said.
”Yes”, said the stranger. ”I have been waiting for someone to come. Put the blade away. You won’t be needing it.”
”Oh, you don’t think so? I have a lot of questions that need to be answered. And I have a hunch you have an answer to some of them.”
”That’s what I’m here for”, said Delioron.
