The Boisterous Case of the Bilious Beers
(Being a letter sent via personal owl-post to Applecider Bolingbroke)
THE IVY BUSH, HOBBITON, Westfarthing in the Shire, on this the 22nd day of Astron
My Dear Applecider:
I am here at the Watch Office sitting on the proverbial fence, hoping that my squirming doesn’t put splinters in my breeches. For you see, troubles are beginning to crop up once more, and as you already know, when trouble's afoot, who gets booted out into the Wild?
Before I get too far off track, let me inform you (privately) of what’s going on (publicly) and what it might foretell for the both of us (get your lute out, this one’s going to make you start that yodeling you do so well…)
So, four days past, Rolo Primstone looks me up at the Plough and Stars where I’m currently bunking, and sits me down for a chinwag over eggs and mushrooms. This was enough to put me on my guard because, as you know, Rolo isn’t given to just be chitty-chat unless he’s working up to soften a blow. I didn’t have long to wait before the blow landed. It seems there’s a demand for Shirriff presence up in the north, especially up near Long Cleeve. First reports that Rolo got stated something about “foul beer and fouler hobbits” – and not only from Long Cleeve, but Nobottle as well.
Well, that started the investigation. I saddled up my little Pony and rode off to Nobottle, thinking to stop along the way at Hobbiton and then on via the Rushock Road. Well, I made it as far as the Ivy Bush in Hobbiton when a flutter of wings caught my eye, and there came Whisper landing nearby.
(Here’s a note for you, Cider: Whisper has been one of the nicest and most useful birds you could ever have wished for, and I thank you again most sincerely for such a gift!)
Tennyrate, I had previously sent Whisper on errand to the Elf-country, with a letter to Her Ladyship on an unrelated topic. But here comes the reply - in a manner only Herself is wont to do - telling me that she and her Household are dashing off into the Wild again on another of her Expeditions! And what’s more, she’s asked our Royzenberry to meet up with the Shire-authority to formally request you and I accompany her!
Right…
Now, there’s a few things off on this – off, like the eggs and mushrooms that Oofy Bolger was pushing on the patrons at the Plough during my stay.
(SIDENOTE: Not to put you off your elevenses, but did you know that Oofy Bolger now has a more-or-less permanent gig at the Plough as the house minstrel? Just thought you’d be interested…)
Firstly, I had previously told Her Ladyship that my absences from the Watch in her company has made my reputation a little precarious. After all, who wants a Deputy-Shirriff, whose job it is to maintain the peace, constantly bolting for the Bounds in the company of outlandish folk, as they’re called? There was enough of a kerfuffle not long past at the inquest in Michel Delving…
Secondly, this latest venture of hers could now be considered as impeding a formal investigation – though I haven’t even had a chance to investigate the case yet, as I’m still a day out from Nobottle.
Thirdly, Her Ladyship sending Berry-lass to do the talking is most unnatural, even for her. I would’ve expected one of her high-falooting letters to be sent to the Delving, but dispatching an in-person messenger? And it being Berry!? Now, it’s no secret that Berry-lass and I have become something of an item of talk (and I know you’re picturing the blushing!), but I’m also secretly worried. Berry is a soft-spoken lass most times, but when there’s a topic with my name attached, she becomes a little more animated and overconfident. I just worry that, in her zeal, she might step on some carefully-brushed toes with the Mayoralty.
And now fourthly and in chief, I’m torn a bit, Cider. You more than anyone knows of my divided loyalties here. I’ve faced down some terrifying things and gone to horrifying lengths, to aid and help Her Ladyship. But my first loyalty has to be to the Shire! So, what I am about to do is mount up at first light and make my way into the Northfarthing, for two reasons. Firstly, to begin the investigation into the ale-ments (see what I did there?), but also I want to pay a call to the one hobbit whose counsel I need in this hour: none other than Great-aunt Jacinta North-took, the matriarch of the North-tooks of Long Cleeve.
Let me close this out and get Whisper on his way. Send me a reply when you can – and especially, if you can join me on the investigation, look me up in Long Cleeve.
Ever Yours,
LANCE
