Who Is Killing the Brandybucks? by Kathryn Ramage
Summary: After another of Frodo's Brandybuck cousins is killed, Frodo believes that someone bears a grudge against the family and must find out who it is before any more Brandybucks die. The case also brings about a reunion between Merry and Pippin as well as Frodo and Sam.
Categories: FPS, FPS > Frodo/Merry, FPS > Frodo/Sam, FPS > Merry/Frodo, FPS > Merry/Pippin, FPS > Pippin/Merry, FPS > Sam/Frodo Characters: Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sam
Type: Mystery
Warning: None
Challenges: None
Series: Frodo Investigates!
Chapters: 39 Completed: Yes Word count: 65866 Read: 209033 Published: March 23, 2008 Updated: March 23, 2008
Story Notes:
This story makes frequent reference to events in the very first Frodo Investigates! mystery, "Death on the Brandywine," in which Frodo investigated the murder of his cousin, Berilac Brandybuck. If you haven't read it, or would like to refresh your memory of what happened then, you can find this story on the Library of Moria at Death On the Brandywine

Notes: This story takes place in the spring of 1423 (S.R.).

Like my previous mysteries, this story takes elements from the book, but also uses two key points from the film version of LOTR: the Shire is untouched, and the four main hobbits are all around the same age.

Many of the names used in this story are taken from the Brandybuck family tree in Appendix C, but the characterizations are my own.

December 2006

The Frodo Investigates! series

1. Chapter 1 by Kathryn Ramage

2. Chapter 2 by Kathryn Ramage

3. Chapter 3 by Kathryn Ramage

4. Chapter 4 by Kathryn Ramage

5. Chapter 5 by Kathryn Ramage

6. Chapter 6 by Kathryn Ramage

7. Chapter 7 by Kathryn Ramage

8. Chapter 8 by Kathryn Ramage

9. Chapter 9 by Kathryn Ramage

10. Chapter 10 by Kathryn Ramage

11. Chapter 11 by Kathryn Ramage

12. Chapter 12 by Kathryn Ramage

13. Chapter 13 by Kathryn Ramage

14. Chapter 14 by Kathryn Ramage

15. Chapter 15 by Kathryn Ramage

16. Chapter 16 by Kathryn Ramage

17. Chapter 17 by Kathryn Ramage

18. Chapter 18 by Kathryn Ramage

19. Chapter 19 by Kathryn Ramage

20. Chapter 20 by Kathryn Ramage

21. Chapter 21 by Kathryn Ramage

22. Chapter 22 by Kathryn Ramage

23. Chapter 23 by Kathryn Ramage

24. Chapter 24 by Kathryn Ramage

25. Chapter 25 by Kathryn Ramage

26. Chapter 26 by Kathryn Ramage

27. Chapter 27 by Kathryn Ramage

28. Chapter 28 by Kathryn Ramage

29. Chapter 29 by Kathryn Ramage

30. Chapter 30 by Kathryn Ramage

31. Chapter 31 by Kathryn Ramage

32. Chapter 32 by Kathryn Ramage

33. Chapter 33 by Kathryn Ramage

34. Chapter 34 by Kathryn Ramage

35. Chapter 35 by Kathryn Ramage

36. Chapter 36 by Kathryn Ramage

37. Chapter 37 by Kathryn Ramage

38. Chapter 38 by Kathryn Ramage

39. Chapter 39 by Kathryn Ramage

Chapter 1 by Kathryn Ramage
Since returning home last autumn following his father's death, Merry Brandybuck had assumed his place as Master of Brandy Hall and was adjusting to the increased responsibilities that came with it. It wasn't an easy transition for the formerly carefree young hobbit, but he left much of the business of managing Buckland to his Uncle Merimac, as his father had done, and when his burdens were too much for him, he slipped away to visit Frodo, who was living in the cottage at Crickhollow.

Frodo had been living in Buckland since their return from Gondor to be near Merry during this difficult time, and to finish his book in peace. The Brandybucks would have been happy to welcome him at Brandy Hall, but like other members of the family, Frodo preferred the quiet of the cottages on the property to the crowd and noise of the enormous smial. Crickhollow was at the farthest end of the lane, about a mile from the Hall.

When Merry came to visit that spring day, Milliflora, the maidservant who looked after Frodo, answered the door and informed him, "Mr. Frodo's at his writing, Master Merry," then pointed to the smaller of the two bedrooms, which had been converted into a study.

Merry went in to find Frodo seated at the table that served as his desk. The Red Book lay open and the tip of his pen was black with fresh ink. Frodo was frowning intently at the half-filled page before him, but didn't appear to be actually writing anything down.

Merry spoke his name softly, and Frodo looked up from his book and smiled. "Merry, hello! I didn't hear you come in."

"You were off in another world. I've brought you your letters." Merry stepped into the room and placed two letters on the table. "One's from Sam and the other's from Melly. How is the book coming along?" Now that he was closer, Merry could see by the wet ink on the page that Frodo had only written a few lines.

"I'm afraid I haven't done much lately. I've come to the difficult part." Frodo sighed and set his pen down. "Mordor."

"That must be most painful part of the story for you," Merry said sympathetically.

"It would be," agreed Frodo, "if my memories of it weren't so vague. It's more like a nightmare to me than something real. I'll have to ask Sam to tell me what happened. He remembers it all."

"Why don't you? You can ride over to stay at Bag End for a day or two, or ask him to come visit you here if Rose will let him."

"I'll go to Bag End," said Frodo. "Sam's far too busy these days with his own family and his new job to come all this way to see me."

That 'new job' had come as a surprise when Pippin had first told them about it: When the Chief Shirriff in Bywater had retired last summer, Mayor Whitfoot offered the position to Sam in light of his investigations with Frodo. In one of his letters, Sam had told Frodo that he'd accepted the job with the provision that it didn't interfere with his gardening--and so far, it hadn't. With his usual self-effacement, Sam also wrote that the Mayor had only offered him the job because Frodo had been away, but Frodo thought the appointment was well deserved. He was enormously pleased and proud.

Sam wrote him once a week faithfully, and through those letters as well as less frequent correspondence from Peony and Angelica, Frodo could see how much of a life Sam had gained since he'd gone. Sam's appointment as Chief Shirriff had made him a prominent person in his own right, and he and Rose had come up socially in consequence. Lad Whitfoot, the Mayor's son, and Lad's wife Angelica had befriended the Gamgees; whenever Sam went to Michel Delving on business, he had dinner with Lad and Angelica or at the Mayor's Hall. Sam had also been invited by Lad and Milo Burrows to attend the pony races with them this coming season, and Frodo's cousins were becoming regular visitors to tea at Bag End--it seemed to Frodo that they visited more often now than when he had lived there.

Frodo had only seen Sam once since his return to the Shire, when he'd gone to Bag End immediately after coming home to see the new baby and gather some of his belongings. He'd intended to tell Sam how his relationship with Merry had changed while they were away, but when it had come to the point, he'd lost his nerve. After Sam had awaited his return so eagerly, Frodo couldn't bear to hurt him more than was necessary. He only told Sam that he would be staying in Buckland while his cousin needed him.

Even so blunted, this news had been a great disappointment to Sam, but he'd accepted it. He understood the obligations of family.

Frodo spent two nights in his bedroom at Bag End, alone, and during the day between, he packed the personal possessions he'd left behind when he'd gone to Minas Tirith and made arrangements to have some of his books and heavier items carted to Brandy Hall. The Crickhollow cottage had been sitting empty since Merry and Pippin had vacated it nearly three years ago and it was in need of repair before it could be made livable. Frodo stayed at the Hall until the end of September, and moved into the cottage just after his 38th birthday.

As he read Sam's letters, Frodo was convinced that he'd done the right thing by removing himself from Sam Gamgee's life. His friend had gained so much in this past year. Since they'd been separated so long, their final parting when he went to the Undying Lands and be healed would be easier for them both.

It was better too, that he spend the time he had left, however long it might be, with his family here in Buckland. Frodo had relatives from one end of the Shire to the other, but the Brandybucks were 'family' in a special way. Brandy Hall was his first home: he'd been born there and brought up in the nursery with the Brandybuck children; they were the closest he had to siblings. Saradoc and Esmeralda, Merry's parents, had cared for him after his own mother and father had drowned. And while none of the Bagginses except for Bilbo and Dora considered him a true and proper Baggins, the Brandybucks thought of him as one of their own.

He picked up his letters and broke the wax seal on Sam's. "I'll have to read these before dinner. You're staying for dinner, aren't you, Merry?"

Merry grinned. "Of course I'm staying, if Milli's made enough for two."

Frodo returned the smile. "She always does."

He and Merry had their dinner and, afterwards, while the maid was washing up, went out to sit on the grassy slope of the cottage. It was early March, and the first profusion of fresh green leaves were sprouting on the trees and daffodils were coming up in golden clumps all over.

As he stood on top of the cottage, Frodo looked out over the hedge that encircled his garden. "Did you come up the lane past the other cottages?" he asked.

"No," said Merry, who was seated at his feet, patting his pockets for a pipe. "I came across the fields by way of Bucklebury. Why?"

"Celie and Merimas were quarreling earlier when I was at Uncle Dino's. He's teaching me how to play golf."

Since the first spring rains had abated and the days had begun to be warm, they'd been practicing in the mowed field behind Dinodas' cottage. His aged uncle used a great deal of obscure jargon, but Frodo gathered that point of the game was to hit little wooden balls with a hooked club, then spend the rest of the afternoon hunting them down in the grass. Some little red flags had been set up near holes around the field, but Frodo hadn't gotten anywhere near one so far, and Uncle Dinodas seemed to enjoy whacking his golf-balls vigorously in any direction, as if he didn't care where they went.

This afternoon, the search for lost balls had taken Frodo into the meadow behind Celie's and Merimas's cottage, which was just down the lane from Dinodas'. There, he had overheard Merimas berating his wife. Dinodas, who was hard of hearing, didn't seem to notice, but Frodo had been horribly embarrassed at his accidental eavesdropping. He'd left as quickly as he could, but from the shouted words he couldn't help overhearing, it sounded as if Merimas thought Celie was spending too much time with her friends, or one friend in particular.

Celie, along with her brothers Dodi and Ilbie, went around with a set of jolly and noisy young hobbits, distant cousins from the cadet branch of the Brandybuck family in Bucklebury, and other Buckland gentry. Frodo could sometimes hear the parties that went on at Ivysmial since Dodi and his wife Isalda had moved in, and he knew that Merimas didn't approve of such festivities.

Frodo felt sorry for Celie. He wasn't as close to her as he was to Merry and Melilot, for Celie was much younger than he and only a baby when he'd left the Brandybuck nursery, but he was fond of her. She was a lively, sweet-tempered girl who had unfortunately taken too much interest in boys too early for her family's comfort, and had been married off as soon as possible to the most respectable, eligible young hobbit available, her eldest cousin Merimas. Merimas was not a lively hobbit. Frodo wasn't on bad terms with Merimas, even though Merimas didn't entirely approve of him, but he hated the way Merimas spoke so sharply to Celie and always seemed to imply that her natural high spirits were something less reputable.

"Quarreling? Again?"

Frodo nodded. "I wondered if they were still at it." He sat down beside his cousin and took out his own pipe.

"What's the news from Sam and Melly?" Merry asked as they lay down on the grass to smoke. "Anything interesting?"

"Sam's letter was mostly about the baby." Many of Sam's letters were about little Elanor and what a remarkable infant she was. "Oh, and did I tell you Rosie's expecting again?"

"You did, after Sam's last letter. So is Estella, by the by. She told everyone this morning, when the aunties noticed how she didn't want any breakfast. They've been suspecting it the last couple of weeks. Everybody's having babies, except for us--thank goodness! And how's Melly?"

"She and Ev and their little boy are well, and so is the rest of the family. Peri and Ferdi are back from their honeymoon..." Frodo hesitated, then told Merry, "Pippin's home."

"Is he?" Merry examined his pipe and spoke with studied casualness, as if he weren't keenly interested in this news. "He couldn't have gone all the way to Dale and back since he left us."

"The troupe was going to spend the winter in Minas Tirith," said Frodo, knowing that Merry knew this as well as he did.

"Yes, that's right. I wonder if Strider was surprised to see him back again so soon. What about Pimmy? Did she come home too?"

"Melly says not."

"I suppose she's going to marry that acrobat she was sweet on." Merry laughed. "Can you imagine how Aunt Eggie will welcome a rope-walking circus performer as a son-in-law?"

"Maybe she won't mind it so much," said Frodo. "After all, all three of her daughters will have been married off successfully."

"And that just leaves Pip to find a wife for. The Tooks won't have given up on that plan, especially not now that I'm out of the way. Maybe Pip won't put up a fight this time." Merry turned his head to look at Frodo. "The aunties still haven't given up hope that I'll be getting married someday, and Uncle Merry keeps hinting that now that I'm Master of the Hall, I have duties to the family I mustn't forget. As if I could forget my duties now! At least he doesn't push girls at me the way Father used to. Mother, thank goodness, seems to understand."

"She knows about us, you know."

Merry's eyebrows shot up. "Does she?"

Frodo nodded. "She told me so one night after dinner. She said she'd guessed it when we first came home, but realized we were trying to be discreet and didn't want to embarrass us." He smiled. "She said she was surprised it should be me, but I'd always been another son to her, and always would be."

"Mother's wonderful," said Merry. "It's a pity I can't marry you, Frodo."

"I'd do it if you asked me nicely," Frodo responded, "but I don't think the family would see it as a step in the right direction."

Merry laughed. "If it weren't for the unlikelihood of us producing a Brandybuck heir together, I expect they'd say I'd made a very good match and was lucky to get you." He cast one arm out over the grass toward Frodo, hand spread to reach for him; Frodo extended his own hand to clasp it.

"Maybe I will marry someday, for duty's sake," Merry went on thoughtfully. "But if I ever do, I'll tell the girl about my past--Pip and you and the rest of it. The gossip's been all over the Shire, so she surely must have heard something about me already. I mean for her, whoever she is, to understand what sort of husband she'll have. I don't expect it to shock her. Girls aren't the innocent little lambikins we're told they are. Most of 'em know what's what even if they haven't had a chance to try it out for themselves. I wouldn't like to marry anybody who was too innocent. I've corrupted enough innocents. I wouldn't expect her to have as much experience as me-"

"I don't see how she could," Frodo murmured, teasing.

Merry pulled up a handful of grass and threw it at him. "Well, why shouldn't a girl have love affairs?" he asked. "Jelly did, and that was with the boy she wanted to--and did!--marry, and yet people whisper about it as if she'd done something awful. Or look at poor little Celie and the way Merimas carries on because she might've had a bit of fun with a boy or two before she married him. She certainly never did anything worse than I did, but they matched her with that stick-in-the-mud while she was too young to stand up for herself. They wouldn't have tried that with me!"

"What if they'd tried to marry you to Celie?" asked Frodo.

"I'm sure I'd be a disappointing husband to a girl who likes boys as much as I do, but at least I wouldn't nag her about having her own fun if she didn't trouble me about mine."

Below them, the kitchen door opened. "I'm going now, Mr. Frodo, if there's nothing else," the maid called out, unseen around the curve of the cottage.

"No, Milli, nothing," Frodo called back. "Thank you."

After a moment's pause, Milli asked delicately, "Will Master Merry be here for breakfast?"

Merry grinned at Frodo and answered, "Yes, Milli."

"I'll bring in extra eggs and milk tomorrow then. G'night t'ye both!"

"Good night!" they called after her. The gate creaked as she went out.

Frodo laughed. "I'm sure she knows just what goes on here whenever you visit."

"I'm sure of it myself," Merry agreed, "but she won't carry tales. That's why I engaged Milli particularly. She's had her fill of gossip."

Frodo wondered what he meant by this, but before he could ask, Merry pounced and rolled him onto the grass for some kissing.

They stayed lying out in the grass until dusk, when it began to grow chilly. While Merry never fussed over Frodo's health as much as Sam had, he suggested that it was time they went in. As they came down the slope by the cottage's brick front, they heard Celie shouting in the distance--"Merimas!"--and then saw a dark-headed figure, presumably Merimas, go swiftly past Crickhollow's gate a minute later.

"Still at it," murmured Frodo. "Poor Celie."

They went inside. In the sitting-room, he knelt on the hearthrug to make up the fire. Merry stood over him, watching him thoughtfully.

"You are happy here, aren't you, Frodo?" he asked. "It's wonderful having you nearby, but you needn't stay just on my account. You can go back to Bag End any time you like. I wouldn't try to stop you."

"I know, but I am happy." Frodo turned his attention to the fire, feeding the tiny blaze twigs and scraps of loose bark to make it grow. "I miss Sam, and Bag End, but when I was there last, I felt as if they weren't mine anymore. I'd been gone so long. I felt like an intruder. Bag End is Sam's and Rosie's home now. It's just as it would've been if I'd never altered the natural course of his life."

"Except they'd be living with the Cottons, or with the Gaffer in Bagshot Row or in some other tiny bungalow," said Merry, "and not in one of the pleasantest houses in Hobbiton. You don't even make them pay rent for it, do you?"

"The house will be theirs by rights anyway, after I'm gone. For the present, I prefer living here at Crickhollow. It's private. I can do as I please, have whatever visitors I please, without worrying about what the nosy neighbors will say." Frodo smiled, and Merry grinned in response and crouched down onto the hearthrug beside him. He put one hand on Frodo's cheek and they leaned in toward each other for a soft kiss. "Besides," Frodo added when their mouths parted, "I like living alone."

"You aren't lonely? You could come to stay at the Hall for awhile if you are," Merry offered. "Hardly anyone's there these days--only Mother and the aunties, Uncle Merry, Ilbie and Estella. The place feels quite empty."

"That's because they all come to visit me nearly as often as you do," Frodo rejoined. "You mustn't worry that I'm ever lonely, Merry. Your mother sees that I'm asked to tea and dinner often enough that I'm no stranger to the Hall. Ilbie and 'Stella, and Dodi and Isalda, come to call at least once a week, and Fatty and Flora drop by whenever they're in Buckland to visit their sisters. Celie sometimes brings her little boys to play with Milli's Jem. And you know about Uncle Dino and the golf lessons. When I don't want company, it's quiet here--no excitement except for a party down the lane or a domestic squabble once in awhile. Not like those days when we were professional investigators and it seemed like everyone in the Shire was knocking on the door and asking for my help."

"But don't you miss detecting, Frodo, at least a little?"

"A little," Frodo admitted. "It was gratifying to be able to help people when they were in trouble, but it was sometimes very hard to see their trouble and the ugly secrets that turned up when we looked too closely. All those things I still don't like to believe hobbits are capable of." Also, the extent of his reputation as the Great Investigator had begun to alarm him. He'd never wanted that kind of fame, nor the burden of responsibility for the lives and deaths of other people. It was all right, even fun, to have a curious puzzle to solve, but so many of his cases involved real people--hobbits, Men, Elves--in real pain. "I may take it up again one day, if it's a special case, but until then, I'm not sorry I've retired. I have what I've wanted since my quest was ended--a peaceful life with someone I love."

He leaned in to kiss Merry again. True, Merry wasn't the person he'd envisioned this peaceful life with, but he was content. Sam was always in his thoughts, as he knew Pippin was in Merry's, but they had found a measure of happiness with each other.
Chapter 2 by Kathryn Ramage
They were at breakfast the next morning when there was a knock on the door. Milli went to answer it. Seated in the kitchen, Frodo and Merry could hear the exchange of feminine voices in the front hall:

"Milli, good morning. Is Frodo up? May I speak to him, please?"

"Of course, Missus Celie. Mr. Frodo's at breakfast. Come in."

A moment later, the maidservant returned with Celie. Celie Brandybuck was a pretty young hobbit of thirty, small and plump, with a profusion of brown curls. Celie hesitated at the kitchen doorway, but did not look surprised, when she saw that Merry was having breakfast with Frodo. Most of the family was aware that Merry frequently spent his nights at the Crickhollow cottage and, knowing Merry as they did, must guess the reason why. "I'm not- ah- interrupting?"

"No, not at all. What's wrong?" Since she appeared rather anxious, Frodo invited her to sit down and poured a cup of tea for her while she told them.

"It's Merimas," Celie explained. "Have you seen him? He left me last night. We-ah- quarreled. You must've heard." She glanced from one cousin to the other, and both nodded. "He went off down the lane in a fit of temper. I ran after him a ways, but he was walking too fast and I didn't want to leave the babies alone to chase him. I waited up for him, but he never came home."

"We saw him go past the gate at sunset," said Frodo, "but he didn't come in."

"Could he have gone the long way 'round, past Bucklebury, to the Hall?" asked Merry. "If he didn't want to go home, he might've spent the night there."

"Yes, that's possible," Celie agreed, but sounded doubtful.

"I'm sure it's all right, Ceel. He's only gone off to sulk. Why don't I walk back to the Hall with you to see if he's there? I ought to return soon anyway." While Merry could, and often did, spend the night away from the Hall, he had to return for the day. "Uncle Merry will be expecting me."




After Celie and Merry had gone, Frodo spent the rest of the morning quietly and gave Merimas's flight little more thought. Like Merry, Frodo assumed that Merimas was off sulking somewhere and would return when he thought his wife had been sufficiently punished by his absence.

He tried to work on his book, but wrote little. Whenever he tried to remember Mordor, he saw it only in brief, vivid flashes: the tower rising between the cleft in the rocks at the end of the passage at Cirith Ungol; the sharp stab of pain that struck him unaware; the red-lit room at the tower's top, and the soul-shrinking horror he'd felt when he realized that the Ring was gone; orc faces looming at him, leering; Sam kneeling over him, smiling; the endless fields of soot and ash and the choking, poisonous fumes; the weight of the terrible burden about his neck like a millstone; the circle of fire that grew in his mind until it consumed all else; the mountain and the rocky outcropping over the pit of molten lava where he'd stood with the Ring in his hand... When he tried to put it all down on paper, he found he couldn't form a coherent sentence. These were fragments of memories, no more. Not a story.

He would have to write to Sam and say he was coming for a visit. It was only fair to let the Gamgees know in advance, rather than simply go and show up unexpectedly at Bag End when they weren't prepared for a guest.

After lunch, he gave Milli the afternoon off and went to call on Uncle Dinodas for their regular golfing session. From the lane before Dinodas's cottage, he could see that no one was home at Celie's and Merimas's cottage next door.

At tea-time, he went to Brandy Hall. He hadn't been specifically invited today, but Merry's mother, Lady Esmeralda, greeted him warmly. "Of course you're welcome, darling," she said. "Come into the drawing room--everyone's gathered for tea, except Merry and Merimac."

"Are they still working?" asked Frodo.

"It's the tenant farmers' rents. They've got to add everything that was paid into the account books. Merry doesn't need to sit through it--his uncle does the accounting--but he wants to learn how to manage Buckland properly. He never used to pay attention to such things." She lay a hand on Frodo's cheek. "You've been a good influence on Merry, dear. Since you've come home, he's matured and become more responsible. He's shown himself to be a better Master than his father or uncle anticipated. I'd like to think Saradoc would be proud of how well Merry's done, although what he might say of your part in it... Well, at least, he'd have to acknowledge that Pippin wasn't the problem. It's simply the way Merry is. If Saradoc had forced Merry to give up Pippin, there would only be another boy. I'm pleased it's you."

As she lowered her hand from his cheek, she gave him a kiss on the same spot, then took his arm. They went into the drawing room.

The aunties had assembled around the tea-table: tall, elegant Mellisaunte, plump little Hilda, an older version of her daughter Celie, and Beryl Bolger, who had accompanied her niece Estella to Brandy Hall upon the girl's marriage to Hilda's younger son Ilberic. Ilbie and Estella were seated near the fire with Ilbie's brother Doderic and his wife Isalda. Frodo stopped to say hello to them, and to congratulate Ilbie and Estella on their expected baby.

Celie had taken an armchair not far from the young couples, but did not join in their chatter. Frodo thought she looked more worried now than she had when she'd visited his cottage that morning, and he guessed before she told him that she'd seen no sign of Merimas all day.

"He wasn't here when I came with Merry this morning," she confided to Frodo. "I didn't know what to do. I've brought my little boys over--they're up in the nursery. I thought we'd stay at the Hall tonight. I couldn't bear waiting at the cottage all night again, if he didn't come..."

"He'll come home, Celie," said Dodi. "Maybe it'll do him good to see you haven't been sitting and crying your eyes out over him. The way he speaks to you, you ought to be glad he's gone for the day. I don't know why you put up with it--I wouldn't if I were married to him." Dodi's and Isalda's cottage, Ivysmial, was much closer to Celie's and Merimas's home, and Frodo guessed that they had greater opportunities to hear the quarrels than he did. They must certainly have overheard more of yesterday's shouting.

Celie only answered, "You wouldn't understand," and curled up in her chair and sipped her tea. She obviously wanted to be left alone, and so Frodo went to chat with his aunts and other cousins. After awhile, Merry and Uncle Merimac finished their business in the Master's study and joined them. Merry was delighted to see Frodo there, and flopped down on the sofa and lay his feet in Frodo's lap while they told each other about their respective day apart.

The family was finishing their tea when the bells on one of Brandy Hall's three front doors chimed. No one moved to answer it--they had numerous servants to perform such tasks--but Celie watched the entrance to the drawing room anxiously until Bramblebanks, the Hall porter and major domo, escorted the Buckland Chief Shirriff Muggeredge in.

"I've come to speak to Mrs. Brandybuck," the shirriff explained--then, since there were a number of Mrs. Brandybucks in the room, clarified, "Mrs. Celandine Brandybuck, that is."

Celie rose from her chair and came forward. "Yes, what is it?"

"I've come to tell you, Ma'am, your husband Mr. Merimas has been found," the Shirriff spoke gently.

"Is he all right?"

"I'm afraid not, Mrs. Brandybuck. I'm sorry to say he's dead."

There were gasps and cries of surprise around the room. Merry sat upright. When Celie sank down as if her legs had given out beneath her, her brother Ilbie caught her by the arm and helped to her the nearest seat.

"Wh-what happened?" asked Mellisaunte. Her face had gone white at the news of her son's death. She had already lost one daughter under tragic circumstances. "Was there an accident?"

"It doesn't look so, Ma'am," the sherriff said apologetically. "He was struck down in the lane that runs along the Hedge, hit in the head. We think as it was done on purpose."

"Where is he?" cried Celie. "Can I see him?"

"We've brought him to the guardhouse at Newbury, Mrs. Brandybuck, but it might be best if you didn't see him yet. He was hit pretty badly." Shirriff Muggeredge looked even more contrite that he should have to tell the dead hobbit's wife and mother this. "But I must ask Master Merry to come."

Merry nodded grimly. As part of his duties as Master of the Hall, he was also the local magistrate; he was called upon to judge cases when Bucklanders requested his arbitration in a dispute, and oversaw the investigation of serious crimes. This was the first such crime to occur since he'd come home. "Yes, of course, Shirriff." He lay a hand on Frodo's wrist. "Frodo?"

When she heard Merry speak Frodo's name, Celie turned to them, her eyes tearful but suddenly brighter. "Yes, Frodo," she said. "Come with us, please."

Other members of the Brandybuck family were also turning to regard him hopefully. No one had asked, but Frodo understood what they expected him to do. Only yesterday, he'd told Merry that he would take up investigating again if there was a special need. He hadn't imagined then that his services would be needed so soon.
Chapter 3 by Kathryn Ramage
They went to Newbury, to the long, low building at the eastern end of town that had been built to serve as an armory during the dark days when the borders of the Shire had been threatened, and was now used as a central shirriffs' office. Frodo had not been here since Merry had been kept shut up in the back room, under arrest for the murder of their cousin Berilac.

As Chief Muggeredge showed them into the long front chamber of the guardhouse, where Merimas's body had been laid on a table beneath a sheet, Frodo saw that the shirriff who had been set to keep watch was Hob Hayward, who had guarded Merry as a prisoner three years ago. At the Brandybucks' entrance, Hob leapt up from his seat, his red-feathered cap in hand.

Celie and Melisaunte had insisted on coming, but at the sight of the sheet-draped figure, the girl stopped in the doorway and would go no further. She gripped her mother-in-law by the hand, and Melisaunte stayed with her while Frodo and Merry went with the Chief Shirriff to view their cousin's body.

Carefully shielding the sight from the ladies' view, Chief Muggeredge held up one corner of the sheet to show them: Merimas's face was muddy and discolored, but undamaged. His dark and curly hair, however, was clumped with thick, dried clots of blood, and trickles of blood had run down his right cheek and temple to dry in brown-red streaks, which suggested to Frodo that Merimas had died some time ago and had fallen to lie face-down after he'd been struck. Had he faced his murderer, Frodo wondered, or had the blow come from behind?

"Is it... very bad?" asked Celie.

Merry took out his handkerchief to cover the top of Merimas's head. "It's all right, Ceel, Auntie. You can look if you want to."

Celie ventured close enough to see her husband's face. "Oh, it is him!" she cried out, as if she hadn't believed it was true until now, and fled out of the hall.

"It is Merimas." Melisaunte reached out to touch the dirty smudges on her son's cheek, then moved the edge of the handkerchief to see the streaks of blood that ran down the side of his face. "My poor boy. He'd never let his face get so dirty if he could help himself." Her voice choked. "We'll have to wash him before we can lay him out properly. He would never want to be seen so untidy." Then she turned abruptly and went outside after her daughter-in-law.

Merry turned to the shirriffs and said, "My cousin's body must be conveyed to the Hall to be laid out, as my aunt wishes, for his funeral. Will you arrange it?" It was an order, and both Hob and Muggeredge nodded solemnly.

"Where was he found?" Frodo asked them.

"Mr. Merimas was lying under the Hedge not far from Newbury, his head broken in as you see," the Chief Shirriff replied. "By the look of him, he must've been killed last night and was lying there through the day. He was struck hard in the head, by a rock I'd say."

"Who found him?"

"It was a couple of farmers, Jebro Todbrush and his brother Tedro. They was coming down the lane by the Hedge into town after the day's work for their regular halves of ale at the High Hay across the green, and they came straight here to tell Hob."

"And I ran to fetch the Chief," Hob added.

"Where are the Todbrushes now?" Merry asked.

"They're at the High Hay," said Hob. "After they helped me bring Mr. Merimas in, they wanted their ales more'n usual."

"I expect you'll want to speak to them, Master Merry," Muggeredge said.

"Yes, we will--my cousin Frodo and I." Merry took Frodo by the wrist, as he had in the Brandy Hall drawing room. "You know that my cousin, Mr. Baggins, is quite famous as an investigator."

The Sherriff nodded. "Aye, we used to hear tales of Mr. Frodo Baggins and his investigations. I remember how he got you out of that trouble, Master Merry, when your cousin Mr. Berilac was knocked into the river, and how he found that Mrs. Stillwaters up Bridgefields-way who everybody said had run off." He looked at Frodo speculatively, as if wondering how much the 'famous investigator' intended to be involved in this murder. Frodo wasn't certain of the answer to that yet himself.

"We'll want to see where Merimas was found as well," he said. It was near sunset now and would soon be too dark to search the place tonight; Sherriff Muggeredge agreed that Hob would take them there in the morning.

While Merry spoke with the sherriffs to make further arrangements, Frodo left the guardhouse. Celie and Melisaunte were seated on a bench outside the door; the elder hobbit-lady sat upright with tears on her face, her arms around the young girl, who was sobbing into her handkerchief.

"I'm so sorry, Auntie, Celie," he said to them softly. It seemed an inadequate expression of sympathy in the face of their grief, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Celie looked up at him hopefully. "You will find out who did this, won't you, Frodo? You'll find who killed Merimas."

"Of course he will," Merry said reassuringly before Frodo could form his usual answer about doing his best.

"The sherriffs won't mind?" asked Frodo. He had not directly encountered the Chief Sherriff the last time he'd investigated a murder in Buckland, but he remembered how Hob had resented his interference and suggestions on where to search for clues.

"No, there'll be no objection," said Merry. "I've had a word with Chief Muggeredge and told him you're to be given every aid to find Merimas's murderer."

Frodo nodded, solemnly accepting the responsibility. After seven months of peaceful retirement, he was an investigator again.

Merry turned to address his aunt. "I've arranged for Merimas to be brought to the Hall tomorrow, Aunt Melisaunte. You and Celie may as well go home yourselves. There's little more to be done here tonight, and Frodo and I will do it."
Chapter 4 by Kathryn Ramage
After they'd seen the ladies off home, Frodo and Merry went into the High Hay tavern across the green. The townsfolk and neighboring farmers had gathered, as was usual at the end of the working day, and many were murmuring excitedly about the news of the dead body found by the Hedge. The Todbrush brothers had apparently repeated their tale to all who would listen.

"'Tis a pity," an elderly hobbit at a table nearby was speaking as Merry and Frodo came in; there was a small cubby just inside the front door, where patrons could hang their cloaks before entering the common room, and the pair were not immediately seen. "First 'twas Mr. Merimac's lad, then the lass as was lost in the river, then Master Saradoc only this summer past, and now it's this other young gent."

"You might say as the Brandybucks was under a curse," answered another aged hobbit seated beside him. "'Tis more'n any family, particularly one so high-up, should have to bear in so short a time."

"It's Mr. Berilac all over again," a woman at another table said to her companion. "He was hit over the head just the same as this poor lad. And I'll wager Missus Celandine Brandybuck's at the back o' this murder too."

"Missus Celandine?" her companion echoed, scandalized. "Not his own wife?"

The woman nodded knowingly over her mug. "Now, I don't say as she killed him, not the one or the other, but you remember how there was talk about her and Mr. Berry when she was a lass not yet married. 'Twas almost a scandal, and there's been talk since as how her husband an't forgot it. And now where's he? Dead just the same!" She slapped one palm down on the table as if this were a conclusive point.

Although they couldn't hear the conversations at other tables as distinctly, Frodo and Merry caught the names of Berilac and Celie being spoken elsewhere as well. This new tragedy reminded everyone of that old one.

The gossipers fell silent and some even looked embarrassed when they realized that the Master of the Hall had come in. The Todbrushes were seated at the bar in the midst of an enthralled audience as they told their story yet again--"and there he lay, t'blood all over his busted head!"--but they too shut up as Merry approached.

"My sympathies to you and yours, Master Merry," said the tavern-keeper on the other side of the bar, as if he were apologizing for the crowd. "We've all heard the sad news about your cousin, Mr. Merimas."

"Thank you," said Merry graciously. "Your sympathy is greatly appreciated." Then he turned to the Todbrush brothers. "It was the two of you we wanted to speak to. Sherriff Muggeredge tells us that you found my kinsman's body."

"That's so, Master Merry," said the elder brother.

"And you've been telling everyone your story about it."

"Aye, Master Merry," the other brother admitted, and looked contrite.

"You may have heard that my cousin, Mr. Baggins here, is an expert investigator. He's looking into Merimas's murder." Merry spoke loudly enough that others in the room could hear this; he wanted everyone to know that a professional was involved in the case. Frodo, however, felt rather self-conscious at all the eyes upon him. "If you don't mind, we'd like very much to hear your story ourselves."

The Todbrushes didn't mind. Merry bought the two farmers each a fresh half-pint of ale, and guided them toward an empty table at the back of the room where they could talk without an audience listening in.

"Now, lads," he said as he set the mugs down, "let's hear it."

"There's naught much to tell, Master Merry," said Jebro diffidently. Frodo guessed that he and Merry were going to receive a less lurid but hopefully more accurate account of the event than the other patrons of the tavern had. "We was coming up t'lane after a bite o' dinner at t'farm, Ted 'n' me. Sun hadn't gone low yet, and 'twas shining down under Hedge. It was Ted who seen 'm first."

"That's right," his brother agreed. "I saw his feet sticking out from tall grass. Jeb said, ''Tis a gent from t'Hall, fallen down.' We thought he was in a fit or had a drop too much, or sommat of the sort, 'til we went to have a close look. Then we saw t'blood on his head, and how his face was all purple when we turned 'm over and he was cold to touch. 'Twas then we knew as he was dead, killed."

It was a simple story, but Frodo thought there were a few points that needed to be cleared up. "You said that, when you first saw the body, you recognized it as 'a gent from the Hall.' Were you acquainted with our cousin Merimas?"

The two brothers glanced at each other. "Not 'quainted, as such, Mr. Baggins," answered Tedro. "We seen 'm about, but there's lots o' young Brandybuck gents, 'tisn't easy to tell one from another."

"We knew 'twas one o' them," said Jebro.

"Where is your farm?"

"Down south, Mr. Baggins, t'other side o' Hill."

"The Todbrush Farm is south of Buck Hill on the eastward edge of Buckland," Merry clarified the geography. "The lane that runs beside the Hedge takes you directly into Newbury, isn't that right?"

"Aye, that it is, Master Merry," said Tedro.

Frodo had at first been surprised that Merry was acquainted with the Todbrushes, but he began to understand that the pair of young farmers were tenants on Brandybuck property; this would explain both Merry's familiarity with them and their farm, and their servility to him.

Although he and Merry had been home more than six months, Frodo didn't go out much and it was still strange to him to observe the way the local folk now treated his cousin. As Heir to the Hall, Merry had generally been deemed a bit wild but 'a good sort of lad' by the Bucklanders, and they had treated him with a friendly informality. If he entered a pub, he would be greeted with a joke or wink and offers to buy him a half-pint. This new formality and deference to 'Master Merry' took some getting used to--and if it was odd to him, how much odder it must be to his normally easy-going cousin. While Merry seemed to take up his role as Master readily when it was necessary, Frodo had often heard him laugh about it when they were alone.

"Do you come here to the High Hay in Newbury regularly?" Frodo asked the Todbrushes. "Your farm is closer to Bucklebury. Do you ever go to the Buckle's Notch there?"

"We been there a-times," said Tedro, "but 'tis more friendly-like here at t'Hay."

"Not so much o' t'high folk," added Jebro, "and t'ale is worth a longer walk."

Frodo understood. Bucklebury was home to the cadet branch of the Brandybuck family, and the Buckle's Notch pub there was a favorite haunt of the young lads from the Hall. High folk, indeed!

"Is the Hedge lane the usual path you take to walk to and from Newbury?" asked Frodo, and received two nods in reply. "Did you go that way last night? Did you see anything, or anyone, then?"

"I didna," said Tedro, "but Jeb 'n' me didna go at the same time. I had me half as I do, 'n went back t'farm 'bout this hour last night. 'Twas getting on dark, and I mightna see if there was ought to be seen under Hedge. Jeb came home later."

"That's right." Jebro explained tersely, "I stopped in town to see my Missus."

"Your wife doesn't live at your farm with you?" asked Frodo. This was most unusual. Married hobbits very rarely lived apart, even when they didn't get along.

Jebro shook his head, mouth set in a stubborn, tight-lipped line.

Frodo would have pressed for more information about this strange situation, but Merry gave him a look that warned him not to. Frodo asked no more questions about the farmer's family life. "When did you go home, Farmer Todbrush?" he asked instead. "You saw nothing in the lane?"

"Woulda said sommat if I did, Mr. Baggins," Jebro replied. "When Ted 'n' me saw him a-lying there, we went t'shirriffs."

This confirmed what Hob Hayward had already told them. Since there was little more information the Todbrushes could give them, the two gentlehobbits thanked them and left the tavern.

Once they were outside, Merry explained, "I'm sorry I had to stop you, Frodo, but you were about to make an awful blunder. Jeb Todbrush is Milli's husband."

Frodo had had no idea his maid-servant's husband was still alive. Milli never spoke of her marriage, and he'd assumed that she was a widow. "But she goes by the name of Pibble."

"Yes, that's her maiden name. There was an awful quarrel between her and Jeb, and a scandal, and so she took her little boy and went back to Newbury to live with her mother. She used to work as a servant at the Hall before she married, and when I heard she was in need, and you needed someone to cook and sweep for you, I hired her. I do try to look after our people, but it's best not to pry into their private affairs. Neither Milli nor Jeb would thank you."

"I didn't mean to pry," Frodo answered. "Only, I didn't know, and it seemed so curious." He understood fully now why Merry knew so much about the Todbrushes. "It's nothing to do with Merimas's death, and that's all I'm concerned with. You've set me to find a murderer, and I'll do the best I can."

"Your best has always been good enough before," Merry replied, and put an arm around Frodo once they had left Newbury and were out of sight of the town and its gossipers. "Chief Muggeredge means well, but he and his shirrifs are better suited to breaking up alehouse quarrels and catching stray cows than solving murders. They aren't the investigators you are, Frodo, and I'm not the magistrate my father was. There'll be no muddle this time, and no injustices done. Nobody will be locked up in gaol until you name the right person."

Frodo knew just what he was referring to: when their cousin Berilac had been killed and suspicion had fallen upon Merry, Saradoc had allowed his son to be arrested and kept prisoner in the guardhouse, ostensibly in the interests of impartial justice, but also as a punishment for Merry's refusing to give up Pippin and marry a suitable girl chosen for him. Frodo's own efforts to free Merry and find Berilac's murderer had set him on his career as a professional investigator. That had also been the beginning of the irreparable breach between father and son; Merry had never forgiven Saradoc for this unfair treatment and spent little time in Buckland thereafter, eventually leaving the Shire altogether over a quarrel with his father. As Merry spoke, Frodo realized how strongly he still felt about the incident; now that he was Master, Merry was determined not to misuse his authority and allow such a thing to happen to anyone else.

Beyond the southeastern end of the town, the path diverged into multiple tracks across woods, farmlands and meadows; one lead to the path along the Hedge, and another to the Crickhollow lane. For a moment, Frodo considered going to look for the spot where Merimas had been found, but it was now dark and he and Merry hadn't brought a lantern with them. It would have to wait until morning. They headed down the Crickhollow lane and were at his cottage within minutes.

"Will you come back to the Hall tonight?" Merry asked as they stopped at the cottage gate. "You meant to stay for dinner. I doubt there'll be much of one--nobody will feel hungry--but they'll want to hear all about Merimas."

"I'm not terribly hungry myself," answered Frodo, "but I am rather tired. If I'm going to begin an investigation tomorrow, I'll need my rest."

Merry drew him into an embrace, and rubbed his back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, Frodo. I know how you wanted peace and quiet, not another murder to solve."

"It can't be helped. Merimas didn't ask to be killed, but since he has been, I can't turn away from the people who need me to find out who did it."

"You never could, my dear." They stood for a moment in the twilight, holding each other. Once they'd kissed good-night, Frodo went in and Merry went on to the Hall.
Chapter 5 by Kathryn Ramage
Hob Hayward came to the cottage the next morning, explaining to Frodo that he'd already been to the Hall and Master Merry wasn't able to come; since Merimas's body had been brought in and there were funeral arrangements and family matters to attend to, Merry wanted Frodo to go on to the Hedge without him, and to come to the Hall afterwards.

Frodo agreed to this, and told Milli she could go home. Milli had heard of the murder the night before, as had everyone in Newbury and for miles around. Whether or not she'd heard how her estranged husband had found Merimas's body, Frodo didn't know. He didn't tell her that he'd met Jebro last night. And while Milli expressed the greatest sympathy for "poor Missus Celie," she was also very nervous at the idea of a murderer running about. She had braved the footpath to come and make Frodo his breakfast as usual, but she spoke so frequently of her little son Jem, left in the care of her mother, and looked so often out the kitchen window as if she were expecting Merimas's murderer to be lurking in the garden shrubbery that Frodo believed she would be happier watching over her child than looking after him today.

He and Hob walked with the maidservant as far as the end of the Crickhollow lane, then saw her off into town before they went to view the place where Merimas had been found beneath the Hedge.

The Hedge, or High Hay as it was also called, marked the eastern border of Buckland and the Shire, creating a barrier between the hobbits' civilized little land and the strange wilderness of the Old Forest just beyond. The trees in the Old Forest were said to have a malicious will of their own, and even odder inhabitants were said to walk beneath their branches; there was a tunnel beneath the Hedge that led into the forest, but only the bravest hobbits ventured in under the full light of day. No one liked to go near at night.

Frodo wondered what had brought Merimas here. They'd seen him fly off in a temper at dusk. Where had he been flying to? He might have been going into Bucklebury to the Buckle's Notch for a drink, or to spend the night at Brandy Hall, but if he had, he'd been going the long way around. It would be much quicker to go down to the other end of the Crickhollow lane and take the main road by the river, or cut across the meadows. If he'd been on his way into Newbury or on his way home, this was an even odder path to take. Had the murderer followed him here intending to strike him down over some personal grudge, or had Merimas died simply because he'd blundered into the wrong place?

The Hedge was a wall of close-planted yew, as old as Buckland itself, more than twenty feet tall. The lane ran within a few feet of its base. The grass grew tall on either side, and clusters of smaller shrubs and trees rose here and there. Hob led Frodo along this path quietly for some minutes, then stopped at a place where the grass had been crushed flat and said, "It was here, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo examined the area closely. There had been no rain in over a week, so the dirt of the lane was dry and showed no sign of fresh footprints. The crushed grass, however, showed the imprints of many feet, and there was a longer, flattened area where Merimas had fallen when he'd been struck, or been placed afterwards. His body had lain close enough to the path that either was possible.

"The Todbrushes said that they turned Merimas face up when they found him," Frodo recalled. "Is that how you first saw him, Hob?"

"That's right, Mr. Frodo. Mr. Merimas was flat on his back when they brought me to 'm." Hob held his arms out, hands up beside his head, as if to demonstrate Merimas's sprawled position. "They said as he was on his face when they found 'm, and his head just under those bushes by the Hay. You can see a bit o' blood there."

"Yes, thank you." Frodo crouched down to have a closer look at the dried stains on the grass. He saw no rocky outcroppings nearby, nothing that Merimas could have accidentally hit his head on. "Chief Muggeredge said that Merimas had most likely been struck in the head by a rock. Have you found it?"

"No, sir," Hob answered. "The Chief thought as you might want us to search hereabouts for it. He's told the other local shirriffs, but as Master Merry's put you in charge, we thought as we'd best wait for you to say so."

"Let's see if we can't find it ourselves first, Hob, before we set a lot of other people trampling over this spot." With Hob's assistance, Frodo spent the next hour crawling over the grass on either side of the path, peering at the root of the Hedge and into the underbrush beneath every nearby copse and bush, but found no rock, stick, or hobbit-made tools with traces of blood on them.

His back and knees aching, Frodo gave up and sent Hob into Newbury with a request that the search be continued with as many deputized sherriffs as Muggeredge could gather. Then he returned to Crickhollow for a quick wash-up, and to change into a clean shirt and somber waistcoat before he went to the Hall.

On the way down the lane, he stopped at Dinodas's cottage to tell his uncle that their afternoon golf practice must be suspended while he was investigating Merimas's murder. Dinodas was sorry to hear about Merimas's death--"a fine lad," the elderly hobbit said with a shake of his head, "if a noisy one, with all his shouting over this 'n' that"--but he seemed chiefly disappointed that Frodo wouldn't be able to play golf with him.

Everyone at Brandy Hall was occupied with funeral preparations. In spite of their grief at this unexpected death, there were certain things that must be done: in addition to laying out Merimas's body in the back parlor and preparing the family vault, the house must be ready to receive the visitors who would pay condolence calls, and the guest rooms swept and dusted and fresh sheets put on the beds for relatives from other parts of the Shire who would come to stay for the funeral. As Frodo went in through the northernmost of Brandy Hall's three front doors, the servants were rushing about at the direction of Lady Esmeralda. As befit the mournful occasion, the Mistress of the Hall gave her orders in hushed tones, and received "Yes, m'lady's" in whispers.

When she saw Frodo, she stopped to kiss his cheek in welcome. "I'm so glad you're here, dear. It's a great comfort to know that you're going to help."

"Is Merry in, Auntie? He asked me to come and see him."

"In his study, dear. Go right in--he's expecting you."

The other ladies, the aunties and his cousins' wives, were also busy, but they paused to smile and say hello to Frodo when he met them in the main tunnel on the lowest level of the Hall. He caught a glimpse of Celie as he went past the drawing room, seated as she'd been the day before, curled in a chair by the fire. Today, she wore a black dress and although she wasn't weeping at that moment, she clutched a crushed handkerchief in one hand and her face was red and puffy and streaked with the tracks of dried tears. Frodo did not disturb her, but he knew he would have to eventually. Instead, he went on to the Master's study near the middle front door to find Merry and Uncle Merimac searching the desk and bookshelves.

"It's the key to the vault," Merry explained. "It seems it's been misplaced since Father's funeral. There's also a speech, written down, that the Master is meant to give at every family funeral. Uncle Merry was kind enough to give it the last time, since I was away..." He shut the desk drawers. "Perhaps you can make finding them your next case. I've appointed Frodo Special Investigator, you know," Merry informed his uncle. "He's to be in charge of finding Merimas's murderer."

"I hope you'll be able to do so, Frodo," his uncle replied. "I never thought we'd have to go through another such tragedy again, not after poor Berry."

Uncle Merimac had heartily disapproved of his nephew's wild ways since Merry was a boy, and Frodo suspected that he disapproved still. Merimac had also disliked Frodo's close friendship with Merry; he'd hoped for his own son Berilac to be the confidante of the heir to the Hall, and perhaps gain a subtle influence over him, but Merry and Berilac had never got along. Whatever feeling Merimac might have about the two of them now, he concealed it and made an effort to aid the new Master as he'd always stood by his own brother Saradoc. Since both Saradoc and Berilac were dead, it was fruitless for him to carry on old quarrels which could only end in his leaving his comfortable situation and the home where he'd been born to seek a bungalow in Bucklebury. Merry often spoke with amazement at how helpful his uncle had become since he'd come home.

"Come in, Frodo, please," Merry invited him to take a seat. "Tell us what you've discovered so far. Did you go out with Hob this morning?"

"Yes, I did," Frodo answered as he sat in one of the comfortably overstuffed leather chairs. He felt rather odd reporting to Merry. If it weren't so serious a business as murder, he would find it difficult not to smile. But it was murder, and these were the roles they had assumed for the investigation. He addressed his cousin and lover as he had Thain Paladin and Aragorn when they'd set him this same task. "I've seen the place where Merimas was found, and I'm convinced that Chief Muggeredge was right: there's no possibility of an accident. I saw nothing Merimas might've struck his head upon if he fell, or was pushed, or was tumbling about in a struggle. The blow must have been struck deliberately. Hob and I looked all around and found no weapon, which suggests to me that the murderer tossed it away as far from the body as he could, or carried it off with him. I've asked the sherriffs to search further."

"You speak of a struggle," said Uncle Merimac. "Do you think they fought? Did poor Merimas meet this person there, or was he followed?"

"I don't know," Frodo admitted. "The grass is so crushed down, it's difficult to tell exactly what happened. The farmers who found him and the sherriffs have been all over. I've wondered what he was doing there in the first place."

"I think we all have," said Merry. "It's such a strange place for anyone to go at night."

Frodo agreed. "If he was killed just after we saw him go past Crickhollow's gate, where was he going to? Bucklebury? Newbury? Some farm or cottage along the Hedge-path? I'll have to make inquiries to find out. That's what I intend to do next." If he could find someone who had seen Merimas that same evening, it would tell them where he had gone, and perhaps provide a clue as to how he had come to be on the Hedge path. It would also help to fix the time of Merimas's death, whether he had been struck down just after dusk or at a later hour that night.

"If you need a shirriff to accompany you and lend an official air to your going around and asking people questions, let me know," Merry said and sounded more like his usual self; Frodo did smile. "Are you starting off right away, or will you stay to lunch?"

"Lunch, if you'll have me. Now, let's see if I can help you find that key."

By using his reasoning and by questioning Uncle Merry as to the circumstances when the vault key had last been used, Frodo found it folded within the Master's speech and tucked inside the front cover of last summer's estate journal, which had been on the desk in the days after Saradoc's death. Once this minor mystery was solved, they joined the rest of the family for lunch in the great, circular dining room at the heart of the Hall. This was the same party of Brandybucks who had gathered for tea yesterday, except for Celie, who was absent, but they were a much more somber group today.

Melisaunte ate little, but carried on bravely. "Merimas has been laid out quite presentably, if you'd like to view him," she told Frodo. "A cloth cap has been put over his head, so you can't see... anything. He looks as if he hadn't been hurt at all. Everyone's been so kind, so helpful, in this terrible time. There's been so much to do. So many letters must be written to family who wouldn't have heard yet--the Tooks, my Melly."

"I wrote to Fredegar and Flora myself," said Beryl, proud that she had made even this small contribution to the proceedings. "I expect they'll come as soon as they know what's happened. The house will be quite full."

Frodo had written to Sam--not the letter he'd planned yesterday about a visit to Bag End, but to tell his friend about his cousin's murder. He did not, however, expect Sam to attend the funeral.

"The funeral will be held the day after tomorrow," Esme said. "I know you prefer to live alone, Frodo, but you're welcome to come and stay at the Hall for the next few days. You may find it more convenient, and I know Merry would be so pleased to have you near."

"We're going to stay awhile, Isalda and I," said Dodi. "And Celie too, of course."

"She can't go on at the cottage," Estella murmured sympathetically. "Not by herself with her little boys. I couldn't bear it in her place." She reached for her own husband's hand under the table.

"My poor darling has been simply lost since that shirriff came to tell us the awful news," said Hilda. "It's always sad to lose a husband or wife--as we all know--" She specifically addressed the elder generation of hobbits with this aside; with the exception of Beryl, who had never married, the others were all widows or widower, "but it's especially tragic when it happens to one so young. She doesn't know what to do."

"Where is she?" asked Frodo.

"She wasn't hungry, as you can imagine, poor child, and didn't want to come to sit with us and try to make conversation," Hilda answered. "I think she's gone up to the nursery. It's best to leave her if she wants to be alone. When she wants our company, she'll come out and find us all waiting."

"We've tried to keep the worst of things from her," said Esmeralda.

"Worst?" Frodo echoed, not understanding what she was alluding to.

"The awful gossip. Merry's told us what the folk in Newbury were saying about Celie and Berry last night," Dodi told Frodo.

"What were they saying about my Berry?" Uncle Merimac looked up from his plate, alert at the mention of his dead son's name.

"Oh, you know what scandal people talk, Uncle, especially about us!" said Dodi.

"They were saying that since Celie used to go around with Berry, and Berry was struck over the head and killed, and now Celie's husband has been struck and killed in the same way, she must be behind both deaths somehow," Merry explained.

"People can be vile sometimes," said Isalda.

"But that little chit didn't have a thing to do with poor Berry," said Uncle Merimac. "It was-" He cast a glance at Melisaunte, who lifted her eyes to meet his with a deadly look of warning. "It wasn't Celie, at any rate."

Frodo and Merry and their cousin, Melisaunte's younger daughter Melilot, had never told the rest of the family the entire truth behind Berry's death and the subsequent suicide of Melly's sister Mentha. Melly had admitted to throwing a rock at Berry's head in self defense, which was enough to call his death an accident and free Merry from the gaol. Mentha was said to have thrown herself into the river out of grief for her dead betrothed. That was the official story. Some of the Brandybucks had guessed what had really happened. They were determined, however, never to talk about it.

"But you see why we've decided it's best that Celie not hear about it, when she has so much else to bear," said Hilda.
Chapter 6 by Kathryn Ramage
After lunch, as Frodo left the Hall to try and trace Merimas's whereabouts the evening before his death, he heard a sharp hiss and someone called his name: "Frodo! Up here!"

Frodo looked up; Celie was standing on the edge of a small copse of trees on the slope of Buck Hill above him. She waved to summon him, and he climbed up to join her. There was a bench and small flower garden among the trees, and Celie had taken her little boys from the care of the house-maid who'd been promoted to the nursery until a proper nursery-maid could be engaged, and brought them out into the sunshine to play. The elder boy, Mungo, was a toddler of two and a half. The baby, Madoc, was a little over a year old. Both already had thick crops of brown curls on their heads, and large brown eyes like both their mother and father.

"How are you, darling?" Frodo asked once he had reached her.

"As well as I can be," Celie answered dolefully. "Having the babies with me helps. Looking after them gives me something to do besides sit and weep, and I don't think so much about... Merimas. You haven't found anything yet, have you?" she asked Frodo, half-hopeful, half-fearful.

"No," Frodo answered. "I've barely begun. I've been to see the place where- ah-it happened, that's all, and I was just going to see if I can find out where he went after he left you."

Celie nodded and set the baby down on the grass beside his elder brother; Mungo was amusing himself by banging a wooden toy horse against the leg of the bench. "I wanted to ask you something else too, Frodo," she said. "There's something everybody knows--Mother, my brothers, Merry, and they're keeping it from me. I catch them whispering, then they shut right up when they see I'm there. You know what it is, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

"Will you tell me what it is then, Frodo?" she requested. "Nobody else will. But it concerns me, doesn't it? Don't I have a right to know?"

Frodo nodded. "Yes, I think you do."

Celie might be a grown-up hobbit, married and widowed, the mother of two children, but she was the 'baby' of the Brandybuck family and still very young and naive, and especially fragile at this tragic time. Frodo understood why the Brandybucks felt so protective of her--he couldn't help feeling protective himself--but while the rest of the family was anxious to keep Celie from knowing about the ugly gossip he and Merry had overheard at the High Hay tavern last night, he agreed with Celie; she had a right to know what concerned her. It was important that she be warned about what was being said.

He also had a reason of his own for telling her: if Merimas's death was connected at all to Berry's, then he must learn what truth, if any, lay behind those rumors. Celie was the only one who could tell him. Frodo recalled hearing stories about Celie and Berilac when he'd investigated the latter's death. The two had courted to some extent before she had married Merimas, but Frodo had no idea how far things had gone between them.

He sat down on the bench and took both her hands in his. "Celie, I know how awful this must be for you," he began as a preamble. "I'll do everything I can to see that the person responsible is brought to justice, but I'm sorry to say that it's going to be harder for you in the days to come."

"Harder?" Celie echoed. "What could be worse than what's already happened?"

"The investigation of a murder is hard on everyone involved, even the innocent," Frodo tried to explain. "I'll have to peer and pry into things that would normally be nobody's business, and turn up secrets that people would rather keep hidden. Ugly things may come to light. There'll be suspicions. I don't want to distress you, Celie, but old gossip will be brought up again, whether or not it was ever true."

"What was true? Frodo, I don't know what you're talking about. What does this have to do with what everyone's keeping from me?"

"I'm referring to the old stories about you and Berilac."

"Berry!" she cried in astonishment. At the sound of his mother's raised voice, little Mungo stopped his banging and stared up at her in wonderment. "But that was ages ago! Berry's been dead for three years. Are people still talking about that?"

"I'm afraid they are."

"And they think..." Celie stopped suddenly, and her still-reddened eyes widened as she understood what Frodo was trying to tell her. "They think that has something to do with Merimas's death, because of me? Do they think I did it?"

"No one's said so, Celie."

"But they think it! Oh, that is worse!"

As fresh tears filled her eyes, Frodo felt ashamed of himself; it was too soon for Celie to talk about this painful, personal subject.
Chapter 7 by Kathryn Ramage
When he left the Hall, Frodo went to the stables to collect his pony, which he kept here where the Hall grooms could tend it rather than at the smaller stable on the Crickhollow grounds. The trip to Newbury by the main road, then to Bucklebury by the back way and to the Hall again was approximately a ten-mile circuit; a healthy hobbit could walk it easily in an afternoon, but Frodo knew he would be doing plenty of walking around both towns as well. While his health had improved greatly in this past year, he still tired quickly and he'd already spent a strenuous morning.

He rode to Newbury and first visited the High Hay tavern. The ale-keeper was certain that Mr. Merimas hadn't been in that night. Gentlehobbits from the Hall so rarely came to his establishment--he was certain he would have noticed and remembered, and would've said so when Mr. Baggins and Master Merry had come in before. Nor could Frodo find anyone else in the town who'd seen his cousin alive after he and Merry had.

Frodo next tried Bucklebury, with the same results. Merimas had not been seen. Wherever he called, he made clear to everyone he spoke to that he was looking for people who'd seen Merimas that last night. Once news of his search spread to the manor houses, farms, and cottages beyond the two towns, he hoped that someone might step forward with useful information.

Late in the afternoon, he returned to Brandy Hall to tell Merry of his fruitless inquiries and to have dinner with his family. The dinner was as subdued as lunch had been and, after dinner, the ladies went to the drawing room.

Merry had carried on his father's and grandfather's custom of gathering the male members of the family in the study for a glass or two of wine and a pipe to smoke. For the younger hobbits, being included was a sign that they were now considered grown-up, even though Ilbie had not yet come of age.

Tonight, however, Uncle Merimac said that he wasn't feeling up to it and retired to his room, leaving the young hobbits standing in the front hall outside the study door.

"Poor Uncle Merry. He's been in a black gloom since we heard about Merimas. It reminds him of Berry's death," said Dodi sympathetically. "It's all coming back again, isn't it, and not only for Uncle? It's just the same as it was then."

"Not just the same, if I have anything to say about it," Merry answered, and Dodi took him by the arm.

"Let's not be stodgy old grown-ups tonight, Merry," he said. "Let's be young lads again and go out for a drop of ale. Come out with us too, Frodo."




They went to the Buckle's Notch, the only pub in Bucklebury. Frodo had been there when he'd made his inquiries during the hours after luncheon when the place was not busy. The Notch was quite crowded and noisy now that it was evening. The Brandybuck youths from the Hall were well-known to the proprietor and other patrons, and welcomed with shouts of friendly greeting and condolences as they came in. Ilbie went to the bar to fetch the first round of ales while Merry, Dodi, and Frodo found an empty table near the back of the room.

"I'll wager they've been talking of nothing else all day," said Dodi as he looked at the familiar faces around him. "Merimas, I mean, and how Frodo's investigating his murder. And poor Celie too. It's hard enough for her to lose her husband, without all that old business with Berry being dug up again."

"You told her, didn't you, Frodo?" asked Merry.

"She asked me for the truth, and I thought she ought to know."

"Perhaps it's best she does," agreed Dodi. "Forewarned is forearmed, as they say. We all want to protect her, of course, but she is in the middle of this. It was her husband who was killed. Even though she had nothing to do with it, that won't stop people from saying the most awful things." He lowered his voice to a mumble that Merry and Frodo could hardly hear. "We aren't the only ones who know about their quarrels, you know. The sooner this matter is settled, the better it will be for her in more ways than one, and for the rest of us too."

"I hope you'll be able to help me with that," Frodo replied. "You and Ilbie won't mind if I ask you some questions, will you? You're much more familiar with Merimas's and Celie's married life than I am."

"No, I don't mind," said Dodi. "We knew you'd ask. Celie married too young, that was the trouble."

"But didn't we all?" responded his younger brother as he joined them, carefully setting the four filled mugs down on the table. "Somebody's got to provide an heir to the Hall for Merry, since he won't do it himself. It's up to us. You've fallen behind in your duties, Dodi. You're the eldest, but Celie's already got two little heirs and unless you and Isalda are keeping a secret, 'Stella and I will have our baby before you do. Merry can have his pick for the next Master!"

"Hush your nonsense, Ilb. Frodo's asked about Celie, and I'm trying to tell him." Dodi resumed the topic at hand. "Now, as I was saying, she married too young. She should've been allowed to have her fun first, before she settled down to being respectable. She didn't have her proper chance. A girl Celie's age likes parties and dances and games. That's only natural. But Merimas didn't approve. You know about our parties at Ivysmial, Frodo? You never come, but you're always welcome to join in."

"Well, I've heard them often enough," Frodo answered.

"I'm surprised you don't come, Merry," said Ilbie. "You always used to enjoy a party."

"I still do," Merry answered. "I wish could join in, but it doesn't do for the Master of the Hall to have that kind of fun. I have to behave myself. I promised Mother."

"Is that why Frodo isn't living at the Hall?" Ilbie asked with a laugh.

"Ilb!"

"Did you think we didn't know? I'm sure everybody's guessed by now, even our Mother. We've wondered about you for quite some time, Frodo. You never played about, not even with Merry like the rest of us, but there was that friend of yours you used to be so attached to. We used to talk about it, didn't we, Dodi? Fatty even asked Merry once."

"And what did Merry tell him?" Frodo asked, looking at Merry.

"He said that whatever Frodo got up to wasn't Fatty's business, unless Frodo wanted to tell him himself," Merry answered.

"Which of course only confirmed his suspicions," said Ilbie. "Fatty's no fool."

"Never mind that--I'm trying to tell them about Celie!" said his brother. "We had a party last week out in the rose garden, since it was a nice day. There was the usual music and singing, and Celie got up to dance on the table. Somebody always does."

"It seems to run in the family," Frodo said. "Merry's famous for getting tipsy and dancing on table-tops in Minas Tirith."

"But Merimas behaved as if she'd done something disgraceful-"

"As if she'd left off her pantalets!" Ilbie interjected.

"He pulled her right down and tried to drag her home," continued Dodi. "I put a stop to that. I won't see him treat her that way. She may be his wife, but she's my sister and has a perfect right to have fun at a party I invited her to. I told him I'd punch his nose for him if he didn't let her go. He let go, but Celie went home not long after he did. He probably scolded her for days afterwards. Wretched brute! I'm sorry he died the way he did, but the truth is that she's better off free of him--though of course I couldn't say that to her now."

"Careful, Dodi!" Ilbie cautioned him. "You'll have Frodo thinking you're the one who broke Merimas's head. He's suspected us of defending Celie's honor once before, remember, when Berry was killed."

"You must admit, your activities on the day Berry died looked extremely suspicious before you gave me the true explanation," Frodo told his cousins.

"And proved we had nothing to do with it," Ilbie finished triumphantly. "Frodo, honestly! As dearly as we love our little sister, we didn't kill her husband for her."

"You're not high on my list of suspects," Frodo assured them, but he noted that, for all their silly, scatter-brained chatter, the three siblings had a staunch loyalty and devotion to each other even within the closely knit Brandybuck family circle. "All the same, I don't suppose you'll tell me where you both were that night when Celie and Merimas had their last quarrel."

"Isalda and I were home at Ivysmial, as a matter of fact," said Dodi. "Yes, we did hear their quarrel. We heard the shouting, at least. I couldn't tell you what precisely they were shouting about."

"And were you at the Hall, Ilbie?" asked Frodo.

"No, I was at Ivysmial too. 'Stella and I were meant to have dinner with Dodi and Isalda, but 'Stel wasn't feeling up to it, so I went to make our apologies and wound up staying for a bit as long as I was there."

"When did you leave?"

"It was just getting dark when I went home. Things were quiet by then. I didn't see Merimas, but Celie was in the lane by her cottage, just ahead of me. When I caught up with her at her front gate, I asked if she was all right, and she said she was. I would've stopped to talk with her if she'd wanted me to, but she said she would rather be alone--I suppose after all that yelling, she was glad of a little quiet. She went inside, and I walked home. I didn't run up the lane the other way to find Merimas and hit him in the head. There wasn't time. Mother and 'Stella will tell you I was home before seven. Happy, Frodo?"

"Yes, thank you. I didn't like to ask Celie, but can you tell me something about her old boy-friends? It all happened while Merry and I were away the first time, so I've only heard some of the gossip. There were others besides Berry, weren't there?"

"There were some boys she went around with," Dodi answered with a note of reluctance, "but it was just a bit of fun. No harm in it. We saw to that, and we'd have given them a good thump if wasn't so."

"Are these any one of these lads among your friends?" asked Frodo. "If they are, I'd like to meet them."

"We won't be having any parties for awhile, not while this murder is hanging over us and poor Celie's in mourning, but if you want to meet some of our friends, Isalda and I will ask them to Ivysmial after the funeral," Dodi offered. "You can come and be introduced."

"You know some of them already," added Ilbie, and turned to a pair of dark-haired young hobbits with a strong family resemblance who had come in while they were talking and taken a seat at another table nearby. He raised his voice to be heard over the level of chatter around the room. "Marly! El! Join us, won't you?"

At this invitation, the two hobbits rose and came over. "You looked like you were in the middle of an important conference," said the smaller and pudgier of the pair; he was about the same age as Dodi and Ilbie and, like them, had a round, cheerful face and snub nose. "Everyone looked so serious. We didn't dare to interrupt."

"But we were surprised to see you lads here tonight, after this awful business with Merimas," said the other one, who was taller, and a year or two older. "Hullo, Merry old fellow. We don't see much of you anymore. And Frodo--nobody sees you at all!"

They were Marleduc and Eliduc Brandybuck. Frodo had known them from childhood, though he'd seen little of them since his return from Gondor. They were distant cousins; in the last century, when Orgulas Brandybuck had quarreled with his elder brother, Master Gorbadoc, he'd left Brandy Hall to tunnel out a smaller but comfortable smial a half a mile away on the far side of Buck Hill, and founded the village of Bucklebury. While the quarrel had been made up between the two branches of the family long ago, Orgulas's descendants lived in Bucklebury still. Only a few, like Mellisaunte's late husband, Marmadas, had returned to live at the Hall.

The two boys were Merimas's first cousins, and part of that circle of boisterous friends that Celie and her brothers liked to have fun with. Had one or other--or both?--courted Celie before her marriage? If Frodo correctly interpreted Ilbie's remark before inviting them over, at least one had.

"We must come to the Hall and express our condolences to Celie and Aunt Melisaunte," said Marleduc, the elder brother, as he took a seat. "How is the poor dear bearing up?"

"Which one--Ceel or Auntie?" Ilbie teased. "Celie's terribly upset, as you might imagine, but I'm sure she'd be pleased if you and Eli came to call. Aunt Melisaunte's bearing it wonderfully, considering. She's never broken down with weeping, but thrown herself into managing the funeral arrangements."

"Actually, we were just discussing what to do after the funeral," said Dodi. "I was thinking of having a sort of reception, with refreshments, of course, at Ivysmial for some of Celie's close friends. It'll be much more pleasant than cramming ourselves into the Hall drawing room with the older folk. You'll both come, won't you?"

Both Marleduc and Eliduc assured him they would be glad to, and the conversation soon turned to other subjects. When Dodi got up to refill their mugs, he stopped at a few other tables in the room to extend the same invitation to the young hobbits sitting there.

Later that evening, Frodo parted with his cousins outside the pub. The others would return to the Hall, while he would take a footpath that crossed the fields between Bucklebury and the lane to Crickhollow. As they were saying their goodnights, Dodi told him, "It's all been arranged, Frodo. Come to Ivysmial after the funeral, and you can talk with Celie's friends all you like. You'll want to chat with Marly in particular. He wanted to marry her, you know."

No, Frodo hadn't known.
Chapter 8 by Kathryn Ramage
Frodo went to the Newbury guardhouse the next morning to tell Chief Muggeredge about the inquiries he'd made yesterday and to ask if the deputized sherriffs had found anything.

"My lads were up and down by the Hedge for more'n a mile either way, Mr. Baggins, and here's what we found." With a broad grin on his already broad face, Muggeredge picked up a burlap sack that was lying on the floor and dumped its contents onto the same table where Merimas had lain, displaying a collection of rocks for Frodo to look over. The smallest was the size of a hen's egg, and the largest the size of a hobbit's head. "Not one has a drop o' blood on it, but we picked up every one that might've done it."

Frodo turned each of the rocks over to examine them on all sides. True, there were no stains beyond a little caked and dried mud, but that didn't necessarily mean that the weapon used to kill Merimas wasn't here. It could be any of these rocks, or none. He remembered a piece of wizard-lore Gandalf had once told him: no two patterns of whorls and ridges on the tips of people's fingers were the same. Such marks were clearly visible on smooth, clean glass, but Frodo doubted there was a way to find them on rough stone. If there was, how would he compare them with the fingermarks of an unknown person?

He thanked the Chief Sherriff for his efforts and asked that the rocks be kept for the time being, then returned to Crickhollow in frustration. Tomorrow afternoon, he would meet some of his principal suspects, but what was he to do until then?

As he went down the lane toward the Hall, wondering what he was going to tell Merry and the rest of the Brandybuck family, he saw that a pony-cart stood before the gate of Celie's cottage. Bags and boxes were piled in the back. The front door of the cottage was open, and a young-lady hobbit emerged, dragging a large carpet-bag. She wasn't Celie nor any of his other female relatives, but a striking-looking woman with long, dark-red curls. Frodo had seen her a few times before, although he didn't know her name.

"Hello," he said when they met at the cart. "Is Celie here? I'm her cousin, Frodo."

"She's packing the children's things," the young lady answered, and flung the bag up into the cart before Frodo could offer to help. "Come inside."

They went into the cottage, where there were boxes and bags piled in the front hall, indicating that Celie was packing up more than a few things. The young lady led Frodo into the small bedroom at the back, where Celie was putting baby clothes and clean diapers into another carpet-bag. Her face was pale and her eyelids pinkish and puffy with too many tears, but she looked more composed than she'd been when Frodo had seen her last.

When she saw him, she even smiled. "Oh, Frodo, hello."

"You're going back to the Hall?" he asked, although it was obvious.

"Yes, I've decided to shut the cottage up. I don't know how long we'll be away. Since Merimas-" she paused and swallowed hard; her large, dark-brown eyes swam with tears. "I don't know yet if I want to live here without him." Her voice rose in pitch at this last sentence and Frodo thought that she was about to cry, but she pulled herself together with an effort. "Everybody said I should wait and do this after... the funeral, and they wanted to come and help me pack, but I wanted to do it by myself. And then Rilla came by to say how sorry she was-Oh, have you met each other before? Frodo, this is my dear friend, Miss Amarilla Underhaye. She used to be Mentha's friend too. Rilla, this is my cousin, Frodo Baggins. You've heard about him. He lives in the cottage at the very end of the lane."

Rilla? Frodo recalled that this was the name Merimas had shouted at his wife during their last quarrel, the one he thought Celie was spending too much time with. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Underhaye," he said politely. "I wish it were under happier circumstances."

"I'm pleased to meet you at last, Mr. Baggins," the red-haired young lady replied. "I have heard a lot about you. Everyone in Bucklebury's been talking since you've come to live in Buckland. I've been hoping to meet you for some time, but you're such a recluse. They say you're writing a book." When Frodo admitted that this was so, she asked, "Is it about the mysteries you've solved?"

"No, actually, it's about my travels and adventures in the Big world beyond the Shire," Frodo replied, referring obliquely to his quest, as he always did when he spoke of it to other hobbits, "but I have written about one or two of my investigations--historical mysteries, you might call them. About the Elves and Men of Gondor long ago."

"Elves?" Amarilla's expression brightened with increased interest. "How intriguing. Do you read Elvish?"

"A little," Frodo said modestly. "I'm not the scholar my Uncle Bilbo was."

"Frodo's very clever. He's going to find out who killed Merimas," Celie said confidently, as if finding a murderer were a simple task. She shut the carpet-bag and buckled the two straps that held it shut. "Rilla, will you please take this out to the cart for me? There are only a few more things I want to take right now. I'll come back for the rest."

Amarilla nodded in understanding and carried the carpet-bag outside, leaving Frodo and Celie to talk together privately.

"Celie, I wanted to say I'm sorry," Frodo told her once they were alone. "When we spoke yesterday, I told you something that upset you. The rest of the family didn't want you to know about the ugly gossip that's begun again since Merimas died, and perhaps I was wrong to tell you, at least so soon. You weren't ready to hear such things."

"No, I had to know what people were saying, about me and Berry. You want to know if what they're saying was true, don't you?" Celie asked.

"It's not my business, unless it has something to do with Merimas," Frodo answered. "Does it?"

"It might." Celie sat up rather primly, back straight and hands folded in the black folds of her skirt in her lap as she looked up at him. "I've thought it over, Frodo, and I'm going to tell you. There wasn't anything wrong between me and Berry, not really. When I began to grow up, he started to pay attention to me, and I liked it. We went boating on the river sometimes--you know about that. We played about, a little, but we didn't go as far as that. I wasn't as naughty as Mama was afraid I was. But Merimas... he didn't believe it was true when I told him. He never forgot about it, even after Berry was dead, not just because of what happened with Mentha and Melly. Before that." Her voice was very low, barely above a whisper. "He didn't think Mungo was his."

"Oh, Celie..." Frodo did some quick calculations: Mungo had been born in October of 1420, almost a full year after Celie had married Merimas; it was impossible for her to have been pregnant at the time of her wedding. However, Berilac had died in April, only six months before Mungo's birth. What Merimas had accused his wife of was not merely carrying on with their mutual cousin before their marriage, but afterwards as well. Frodo knew, as everyone did, that Merimas had always reproached Celie for her conduct, but he'd never imagined that it was as terrible as that.

"I've never told anybody about it before," Celie said in the same soft voice. "It's too shameful. I couldn't tell Mama--it would shock her so, and my brothers would never forgive Merimas if they knew what he was saying. And if anybody else heard it, they might wonder if it was true."

"Is that what your last quarrel was about?" Frodo had only heard a few fragments regarding Celie's choice of friends, but if Merimas had been shouting at her for several hours, there must have been more.

"It was always the same quarrel," said Celie. "If it wasn't about Berry, it was somebody else. Merimas didn't think it was proper for a respectable married lady to have gentlemen-friends, but he didn't approve of my girl-friends either. Rilla," she waved toward the door to indicate the young lady who had just gone out. "He said she wasn't suitable for me to associate with. He thought she was fast and a bad influence because she's forty years old, but doesn't want a husband, and she lives by herself in Bucklebury even though she has relations she could live with. But she's wonderful and clever and artistic, like Mentha was." In her indignation and eagerness to defend herself and her friends, Celie was beginning to forget her grief. "You'll see that for yourself when you know her better, Frodo. All our friends will be at Dodi's tomorrow, and I'll see that Rilla comes too. You know about the reception Dodi's having after the funeral, don't you? You'll come?" she asked. Then, with a sudden flash of comprehension and suspicion, "Did you ask him to do that, Frodo?"

"I told him and Ilbie that I wanted to meet some of your friends," Frodo answered carefully. "Dodi agreed to arrange it."

"You think one of them had something to do with Merimas dying?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I have to find out. It's what I've been asked to do. I told you--an investigation is like that."

"Yes, you said, but that's nonsense, Frodo. They're my friends," Celie insisted, as if this were proof enough of their innocence. "They thought Merimas was an awful old stick who never liked to have fun. They used to laugh at him, but nobody'd want to hurt him. You'll meet them and see how wrong you are."

"What about your old suitors?" asked Frodo. "Could one them have resented your marriage to him?"

Celie turned pink at the question. "Most of the boys I used to go around with are married to other girls now."

"Marledoc isn't."

To his surprise, Celie laughed. "Oh, Frodo! Now you are being ridiculous! Marly's like you and Merry. Ask Merry if you don't believe me."

This was a direct contradiction to what Dodi had told him, and Frodo didn't know Marledoc well enough to know which was true. After Ilbie's joke about him and Merry at the pub last night, he wasn't even startled to hear that Celie knew about them as well. As he had guessed, their relationship was no secret within the family.

Frodo carried a couple of the boxes left at the door out for her, and put them into the cart. Celie took down the last thing she wanted, the oval wedding portrait of herself and Merimas, which Mentha had painted and which hung over the parlor fireplace. It was small enough to carry in her arms, and Celie did so, holding it carefully before her, the painted side to her chest. Amarilla was waiting outside.

"Are you coming to the Hall with us?" Celie asked her friend.

"Not today, thank you. I've paid you my call, and that's all I meant to do. I was glad to find you here and alone, rather than at the Hall."

"Will you come to Dodi's tomorrow, afterwards?"

"Yes, of course," said Amarilla. "Dodi's invited me. I'll see you there."

Frodo helped his cousin up onto the seat at the front of the cart, then climbed up beside her and took the pony's reigns. As they rode to the Hall, Amarilla remained in the lane before the cottage gate, watching them go, then turned to cross the fields toward Bucklebury.
Chapter 9 by Kathryn Ramage
After leaving Celie in front of Brandy Hall and arranging with Bramblebanks, the Hall porter, to have her belongings carried in, Frodo took the pony and cart to the stable. As he came out, he met Merry, who was returning from the Brandybuck family vault, which lay on the northern edge of the property some distance from the house.

Merry waved to draw Frodo's attention as he came toward him across the lawn, and they walked together on the path along the river under the willow trees that grew on the bank. "The vault is unlocked and I've seen for myself that there's a shelf cleared to lay Merimas down upon tomorrow," said Merry. "The trestle for his bier is set before the door. I hope it won't rain. A funeral's sad enough--making everybody stand out in the rain for it only makes it more miserable for them. Find out anything today, Frodo?"

"The sherriffs have gathered an impressive number of rocks from near the Hedge where Merimas was found," Frodo reported, "and I've had an interesting conversation with Celie." He would not tell even Merry everything Celie had told him--he considered Merimas's accusations regarding her and Berry to be completely confidential--but there was one particular point which Merry might help to clear up, as Celie herself had suggested.

When he asked about Marleduc, Merry laughed and said, "If she meant that I once played about with him, yes, I did. But that doesn't prove anything. I don't know how Marly feels about Celie, but there's no reason why he couldn't be in love with her or some other girl because we once had a bit of fun together. There's hardly a boy-cousin in Buckland between the ages of thirty and forty I couldn't say the same of. Nearly every one of those lads has since fallen in love with some nice girl or other and married her. Why should Marly be different? It's something everybody outgrows, except for you and me." He put an arm around Frodo as they walked.

"And Pippin?"

Merry didn't respond to this, but asked, "Did I ever tell you who the first one was, Frodo? It'll surprise you."

"No, you didn't say." Frodo knew this was a diversion, but he was willing to play along. "You once told me you were five-and-twenty. Therefore, it can't have been Pippin, nor Dodi or Ilbie. They were still children at that time, and anyway they wouldn't surprise me. Fatty?" he guessed. "Ferdi Took? Ev, or Reg? Not Merimas. It wasn't a girl, was it?"

Merry shook his head and laughed. "You'll never guess, so I'll tell you. It was Berry."

"Berry!" Frodo yelped, as astonished as Merry had predicted. "But you could never stand each other! And Berilac always liked girls--he was too keen on them, actually." Before his death, Berilac had gained a reputation among the maid-servants at Brandy Hall as being a gentlehobbit to beware of, and in addition to being involved scandalously with Celie, he had betrothed himself to Mentha and then tried to accost her sister Melilot. "I must say, he seems to have got around more than I ever imagined when he was alive."

"He overcame his natural inclinations for once," Merry answered. "He probably thought it was what his father would want. Uncle Merry was always pushing him to get into my good graces, you remember--to come between you and me in any way he could. So when I invited him to go off into the bushes by the boathouse with me, he went. I suppose he thought he might as well try this way, only it didn't work any better for him than anything else."

Frodo had to laugh. "Merry, you're truly awful! The naughtiest hobbit I know. Does Uncle Merry know about this?"

"He's never said a word, but it wouldn't surprise me if Berry darted right off and told him. Uncle Merry started telling Father about how wild I was around that same time, but he might've heard how I was carrying on with other boys just as easily. I didn't wait to find a second boy, or a third or forth, once I found out how much fun it could be."

They could hear a distant clip-clop of hooves approaching, and as they emerged from the shelter of the willows before Brandy Hall, they saw a small pony-trap bearing two hobbits coming up the road from Bucklebury Ferry.

"More guests," said Merry. "Others have come already. Fatty and Flora are here. This will probably be some of the Tooks-" He stopped suddenly and an odd look came over his face.

Frodo stared at his cousin and lay a hand on his arm, then turned to look again at the pony-trap, which had drawn closer--and he understood. The new arrivals were Melly and Pippin.

"You knew he was home," Frodo said softly.

"Yes, but I didn't know he was coming here." As the trap drew up in front of the Hall, they walked out swiftly to meet it.

The pony stopped before the middle front door. Pippin climbed down first and handed Melly out of the trap. While she came forward to give Merry and Frodo each a fierce hug, Pippin hung shyly back.

"I've come for my brother's funeral," Melly announced, "but I expect to stay on for awhile. I want to be with my family... while I still have one. There seem to be fewer Brandybucks every year." She turned back to Pippin. "Pip, will you give me little Addy? I want to introduce him to his uncles."

Pippin nodded and carefully lifted up the long-handled basket that had been wedged onto the seat between them; from it, Melly lifted out her baby, who was six months old. "This is Aderic," she said as she presented him. "You haven't been to Tuckborough to see him yet, but I've been looking so forward to your meeting him. Would you like to hold him?"

Frodo was always nervous with new babies, but he had held enough infants before--his niece Willa, Celie's little boys, Elanor Gamgee--that he didn't protest when Melly placed her baby in his arms. "He looks more like you than Evvy," he told her, "except for the eyes."

Melly smiled. "They're blue. Everybody says they'll change and get darker as he gets older, but I hope they won't. Otherwise, I'd say he takes more after the Brandybuck side than the Tooks." When little Addy began to fuss, Frodo returned the baby to its mother. "After I take him up to the nursery, I'm going to find my mother," Melly said as she put Addy back into the basket. "Do you know where she is?"

"Aunt Melisaunte was in the drawing room with Mother, Estella, and the aunties when I went out," Merry told her. "I expect they're still there."

"Celie will probably be with them," Frodo added. "I brought her back from the cottage with her belongings."

"Poor girl," murmured Melly. "You must be looking into this, Frodo. You don't think Celie is involved, do you?"

"No, I don't believe she is," Frodo answered. That was the most he could say honestly; Merimas had probably been killed for Celie's sake, but whether or not she knew who had done it remained to be seen.

Melly did not catch this careful nuance. "Well, thank goodness for that!" she said. "I hate it when you go around suspecting all your relations."

"It's not Frodo's most endearing trait," Pippin agreed. "We're lucky we were fifty miles away when this murder happened."

After Melly had gone into the Hall, bearing the baby in its basket, the three others remained, all feeling a little awkward and tense. Frodo and Merry hadn't seen Pippin or had a word from him since he'd left them to join the circus at Bree, and their parting on that day had been a painful one.

"We didn't expect you to come back to the Shire so soon, Pip," Merry said with an ease he obviously didn't feel. "What happened?"

"I got as far as Edoras," Pippin answered. "The Riders found us when we went through the gap, and took us to King Eomer. I introduced the troupe, and they had a command performance right there. Everybody loved the white pony's tricks, just as I knew they would. We stayed there for awhile, and then Eomer had his Men escort the troupe down the road toward Gondor. I didn't want to go back to Minas Tirith with them, so I turned around and came home."

"Wasn't it any fun?" asked Frodo.

"Oh, no, it was great fun. Mr. Grimmold taught Pimmy and me all sorts of wonderful tricks--wait 'til you see--and said I had a bright future as a conjurer if I wanted to take it up professionally. It was nice being among people who thought I could do something well." Pippin ducked his head and admitted, "But the truth is, I was homesick. I'd been so long away already and I missed you, both of you." He looked from Frodo to Merry. "I wanted to come back."

"We missed you too," said Frodo, and gave him a hug.

Merry was more reserved, but he admitted, "It's good to have you home, Pip."




The Brandybucks were delighted to welcome Melly and to see her baby, but somewhat surprised that Pippin had accompanied her, since many of them hadn't heard of his return to Tuckborough. Even those who did know were uncertain what to make of his unexpected arrival at Brandy Hall. Were he and Merry intending to resume their scandalous relationship? Over dinner, the aunties and Uncle Merimac watched the pair, glancing from one boy to the other for an answer to this crucial question.

"I'm terribly sorry about Merimas dying, but I'm here mainly to help Frodo out find out who killed him," Pippin explained his presence between mouthfuls of roast and potatoes. "I've always been there to helped him solve murders before and I didn't want to miss out on this one, since it's in the family."

"Why don't you come and stay with me at Crickhollow?" offered Frodo. "There isn't another bed, but the sofa in the sitting room is quite comfortable."

"Nonsense," said Merry. "Pippin will stay here. We've plenty of beds, and all the guest rooms are prepared. Bramblebanks can give you one of them, Pip. The room that used to be Berry's is empty, isn't it?

This created greater confusion: there were other, empty rooms nearer to the Master suite if Merry meant to have Pippin close by. Was he deliberately trying to keep his distance, or was this merely an attempt at discretion?

Pippin wasn't confused by Merry's intentions. Nevertheless, he replied cheerfully, "Oh, I'll sleep wherever you like. Any old bed will do for me," then he helped himself to more potatoes.

Some Brandybucks correctly divined the true situation between the pair, while others remained puzzled. Lady Esmeralda understood. "Poor Pippin," she murmured to Frodo as they exited the dining room. "He cares for Merry as much as he ever did, but Merry's made it plain he doesn't wish to carry as they used to. Pippin has my sympathies, but I believe it's for the best. They couldn't go on with their wild old ways now that Merry is Master. And there's you now, too. I'd hate to see you hurt, dear Frodo." As she paused outside the drawing room door, Esmeralda looked puzzled; the young lads had not gone into the study, but were headed up the main tunnel in the opposite direction. More curious still, their wives, plus Melly and Celie were accompanying them. "Aren't you joining us?"

"Not yet, Aunt Esme," answered Frodo. "We're going to have a council first."
Chapter 10 by Kathryn Ramage
As usual, Frodo deputized whoever among his relatives was willing to aid him in his investigations. Since all the young hobbits at the Hall had expressed an interest in finding Merimas's killer, they held a conference after dinner to form their plans.

They couldn't meet in the best drawing-room, where the older ladies of the Hall were sitting, nor in the back parlor, where Merimas was laid out for the funeral tomorrow, nor in the Master's study; Uncle Merry was sitting there, alone with his pipe and a glass of wine, and the room was too small to accommodate so many. The bedrooms were likewise too small for such a gathering. So they went up to the nursery, where Melly could sit with little Addy asleep in her lap while they talked and Celie could keep an eye on her children.

The nursery wasn't a single room, but a maze of cubbies and nooks at the very top of Brandy Hall, beneath the crown of the hill. Frodo had spent the first twelve years of his life here with his Brandybuck cousins. Little had changed since those days, for the nursery had been shut up after the last of the children had left, and it was only partially opened now that the young hobbits were old enough to have children of their own. As they sat down in one of the larger playrooms on child-sized chairs that made Frodo wonder if this was how Big Folk felt using hobbit furniture, old memories crowded in upon him: Celie howling in her crib, Dodi and Ilbie as toddlers very like their little nephews, Mentha and Melly playing with their dolls, Berry spying on him and Merry to carry tales to their parents, Merimas scolding them for some long-forgotten mischief. He remembered how he had sobbed through the nights after his mother and father had drowned, and Merry had crept into his bed to sleep beside him.

He explained to these same cousins--those who were still alive--plus Pippin, Fatty, Estella, Flora and Isalda what he hoped to accomplish after the funeral tomorrow. "I don't know if any of the people Dodi's gathered are involved in Merimas's death, but one of them may be. That's where all of you can help. Most of you know them better than I do. Get them to talk. You don't have to ask leading questions. I expect they'll all be eager to talk about Merimas, and about you, Celie, and you only have to encourage them to speak their minds and listen to what they have to say. Perhaps something interesting will come to light."

"And if it does?" asked Ilbie.

"Then you'll tell me about it. Don't come running and shouting in the middle of the reception, for goodness sake, but make note of anything curious. We'll sit down tomorrow evening after everyone else goes home and talk over what we've found."

"I'm not certain I like this," said Isalda, and shook her head. "I didn't when Dodi first told me about it. Of course, I want whoever killed Merimas to be found, but it doesn't seem right to trick our friends to saying unguarded things in hopes of trapping someone. It feels like spying. It's horrible, looking at people we know and wondering if one of them could have done such a thing. Knowing that we're suspected ourselves."

"No one could suspect you, Issy," Pippin teased.

"No, but Frodo's had ideas about my husband and Ilbie." She turned to Frodo. "You asked them their whereabouts when you went out to Bucklebury together last night, didn't you?"

"I did, but that's the sort of thing that has to be asked of everyone," Frodo explained. "It's a routine part of any investigation, to pry into coming and goings and private affairs that wouldn't normally be any of my business."

"You said so before," said Celie, "but I thought you were talking about my old boy-friends. I didn't know you meant my brothers too!"

"It's what Frodo's been engaged to do, by me," Merry supported him. "It's his job to suspect everybody. You can't say he isn't fair about it."

"Besides," joked Ilbie, "what sort of investigation would it be if Frodo didn't suspect me and Dodi at some point? We don't mind it, and you shouldn't either."

"You needn't be frightened for Dodi's sake," Frodo told Isalda. "He and Ilbie both accounted for their whereabouts that evening. They were having dinner with you at Ivysmial. You can swear to that, can't you?"

She brightened. "Yes, I can, and I will. They were with me every minute until Ilbie went home."

"Except for when we went out to sit in the garden for a pipe after dinner," said Ilbie. "You forgot about that."

Isalda whirled to stare at him, mouth open and cheeks pink at the implications of this cheerful contradiction. "They were only outdoors for a few minutes, Frodo, not above ten or fifteen while I was clearing the table and washing up," she quickly amended her previous statement. "That's not enough to matter."

"We never went out of the garden," added Dodi.

"I believe you," Frodo told them, "but I want you all to understand what we're doing. This isn't a game. Isalda is quite right: it isn't nice to suspect people, especially when they're friends or relatives, but it is necessary when you're investigating a murder. You can't discount someone because you're fond of them. I learned that lesson in my first investigation, when I looked into Berry's death. I couldn't allow myself to say 'Dodi wouldn't ever do this, or Melly wouldn't do that,' even if I believed it in my heart. I must find proof that it's so."

Dodi and Melly looked surprised and curious at hearing their names mentioned. Fatty also looked intrigued. "Who said that, Frodo, about Dodi and Melly?" he asked. "You were quoting someone."

"It was Sam, wasn't it?" asked Merry.

"As a matter of fact, it was," Frodo answered. "It was just after I'd found out who that piece of broken jewelry that no one would tell me about belonged to. He said I ought to consider you too, Merry. It upset me very much at the time." So much so that he had had a bad turn and woke up the household with his screams that night; they all remembered that. "But he was right. You have to consider every possibility, like it or not, and examine them before you can discard them. It's the only way to find the truth. If you aren't able to do that, you needn't help. I'll understand. But I ask that you don't give us away tomorrow, say anything that will put the people we're speaking to on guard, or lie to protect someone. You may mean well, but it will only confuse matters and make things look worse than they are for the very person you're trying to shield. If they are innocent, they won't be harmed by questions, and if they aren't..."

Isalda nodded solemnly.

In one of the nearby cubbies, one of the children began to cry for "Mama!" and Celie left the playroom to go to him.

"I can't do as much as I used to in the old days," said Merry. "When Pippin and I would go around questioning everybody, riding halfway across the Shire and sleeping in the woods because you asked us to. Remember, Pip?" He grinned at his cousin, and received a beaming smile in return. "I'll have to put in an appearance at the Hall tomorrow as host and be there to greet the guests after the funeral, but I'll come to Dodi's as soon as I can, Frodo. You'll have plenty of other people to poke about and find out secrets for you before I get there."

"It's what I came here to do," Pippin agreed.

"So did I," said Melly. "I'll ask whatever questions you like, Frodo. I mean to find my brother's murderer. I know he wasn't well-liked. He wasn't kind to Celie, and I can't forgive him that, but he was my brother and he's dead and I can't allow that to pass. He always did what he thought proper for a gentlehobbit and a Brandybuck, and he looked out for Mentha and me in his own, old-fashioned way."

"I'll help too," Estella said softly. "We've helped before, haven't we, Fatty?" she asked her brother. "When poor Cammie Stillwaters went missing. Only, this time it's Celie I want to help. She's been my friend since we were little girls. I won't lie, Frodo, but I won't do anything to hurt her."

"Nor will I," said Melly. "She's had to endure enough without more suspicions."

"I don't want to hurt Celie either," Frodo assured them. "But I this does involve her. I think it was done for her sake, even if she doesn't know it."

"I guessed as much," said Fatty. "We've heard that they're talking about her in Newbury and Bucklebury, and obviously we see how you're considering the boys she used to go around with."

"I don't think there's anything in it. Celie used to tell me an awful lot about the boys she went out walking with," said Estella. "She talked a lot about of kissing, with Berry and some of the other lads. I thought it terribly shocking at the time." Her eyes went to Ilbie, and a little smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. "I'd never kissed anybody. But I think it was mostly talk."

"Then I can count on you?" Frodo asked not only Estella, but the others seated around him. They all, even Isalda, agreed.
Chapter 11 by Kathryn Ramage
The funeral for Merimas Brandybuck was well attended for a small, private ceremony, for the Buckland and Stock gentry and Bucklebury relatives had turned out to pay their respects. Chief Muggeredge stood at a tactful distance from the assembled crowd, and Uncle Dinodas had shown up, although he hadn't bothered to change from his comfortable old tweeds. Merimas's friends were there. Frodo knew some of them, had spoken to them when he'd made his inquiries: Gorbulac Brandybuck, an older Bucklebury cousin, Salvo Goldworthy, a local gentlehobbit, and Ulmo Pogs, a tenant farmer. Some of the other farm-folk made appearances as well. The Todbrush brothers were there, but Frodo was surprised to see that Milli hadn't come even though she and Celie were friendly. She had been to Crickhollow this morning and was kind enough to press one of his good shirts for him, but must be too nervous to be away from her mother and little boy for very long.

Also present were a number of young hobbits who had no especially fond feelings for the deceased, but were friends of his widow and had been invited by Dodi to come to Ivysmial afterwards. It would be impolite for them to show up for the post-funeral reception without attending at the funerary rites first.

Frodo, along with Fatty, Dodi, and Ilbie, had volunteered to carry the bier from the back parlor to the Brandybuck vault. They were the same four who had carried Berilac's bier three years earlier; as they stood respectfully beside the flower-covered figure laid out on the platform before the open door of the vault and listened to solemn speeches about the young life cut tragically short, Frodo had the oddest feeling that this had all happened before. He was even wearing the same black coat with the velvet collar and a gold-threaded waistcoat very like the one he'd worn on that other occasion.

After the funeral, most of the guests went to Brandy Hall, where Esmeralda had arranged for refreshments to be served, while Celie's friends gathered at Ivysmial. Since it was a fine, sunny day, plates of sandwiches and seed-cakes were laid out on tables in the rose garden, rather than in the tiny cottage parlor. While Frodo had never attended the parties at Ivysmial before, he knew they were normally riotous. Today, the gathering was subdued.

Celie herself did not join this group immediately; like Merry and Melilot, she had to make an appearance at the Hall and receive the guests there first. These three came about half an hour later.

Before Celie and Melly arrived, Dodi introduced Frodo to his guests: Violetta, Dioica, and Lavendula Marishe, Lido and Lilaca Pebblebrook, Walderic and Aramanta Biggs, Layther and Hazel Downend, Hyacinth Bunce, Oleander Woodbury. Some other young Bucklebury Brandybucks besides Marleduc and Eliduc had also been invited.

As they stood surveying this crowd, Fatty Bolger murmured that these "younglings" made him feel "creaky as an old uncle," and Frodo knew exactly what he meant. Most of them were in the same range of age as his youngest Brandybuck cousins, between thirty and five-and-thirty--only a few years younger than himself, but they seemed little more than children, foolish lads and giggling, silly girls. He focused his attention upon the males of the group, particularly the unmarried ones. Dodi's and Ilbie's hints had led him to believe that Celie had been involved to some degree with most of these boys before her marriage; when he spoke to them, even the married lads freely admitted that they'd been out walking or boating with Celie, but they were also quick to add that that was a long time ago and they were simply good friends today.

Everyone said the same three things: how terrible it was that Merimas had been killed, how awful this must be for poor Celie, and how earnestly they hoped that whoever had done this horrible thing would be caught soon. If they did not grieve for Merimas, they refrained from expressing their feelings aloud in the presence of his widow, sister, and bereaved family, but Frodo noted that they all seemed more sympathetic to Celie's distress than Merimas's actual death. No one said so distinctly, but he suspected that a good many shared Dodi's opinion that Celie was better off free of her constantly disapproving husband. He also detected an undercurrent of fear and excitement in their talk, for Merimas had not come to his death through illness or an accident, but by violent murder, and his murderer had not yet been found. Everyone wondered who could have done it... except for perhaps one who already knew.

Frodo had kept to himself so much these past months that he was surprised to realize that everyone knew who he was. The famous detective living in Buckland was enough to cause talk even when he wasn't investigating. And now there was a murder for him to solve! His presence added to that sense of nervous excitement among the guests. Whether or not they were aware that they were invited here as possible suspects, everyone he spoke to assumed that he was looking into his cousin's death. Unfortunately, that tended to put them on their guard if he tried to probe beyond the most simple questions.

He did manage to have a brief conversation with Marleduc and Eliduc. They naturally spoke of Celie, and when Frodo ventured that he'd heard Marly had been sweet on her once, Marledoc replied rather defensively:

"What if I was? Everybody was. Celie and I went around together, did a bit of kissing--nothing more! Of course I'm very fond of her. I might've asked to marry her when we were older, but she was matched off to Merimas before I was ready to think about marrying anybody. We've remained friends since, but friends only, Frodo. She's a married lady, after all, and that's that."

Frodo had heard this same declaration from Celie's other old boy-friends, but hearing it from Marledoc, he wondered if it was as simple as that. There was a tone of dejection in Marledoc's voice as he spoke that made Frodo think that Dodi understood the young hobbit's feelings about Celie better than Celie herself did. "She isn't married now, Marly," he reminded him. "After a suitable period of mourning has passed, I'm sure someone will ask for her. One of her old friends."

"I daresay you're right, but it won't be me," said Marleduc. "She doesn't understand how it is with the lads. Since she heard about me and Merry, and some other boys, she thinks I don't like girls at all. She doesn't think of me that way. I hope she does marry again, to someone who will make her happy, happier than she's been. That old stick Merimas was always scolding her for her misbehaviors."

"And he wasn't so pure himself!" added Eliduc.

Frodo pounced on this last remark with acute curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

"It's only something I've heard," Eliduc answered, more reluctant to speak once he was pressed. "One hears stories. They say there's a girl or two who could tell a tale about old Merimas if they were inclined." But he could not produce any names when asked.

"I heard something similar once myself," Marleduc said, "but I can't believe it, not of Merimas. If it weren't for the two little boys, I'd find it hard to believe he ever unbuttoned himself for Celie!"

Frodo also doubted whether there was any truth to this tale. He'd never heard a hint of scandal attached to Merimas before. Quite the opposite. Merimas would probably have been more generally liked if he'd been a little more scandalous.

He hoped that Celie's friends would tell his deputized cousins, who had been instructed on the kind of conversations to encourage, whatever they wouldn't tell him. Dodi and Ilbie and their wives were on friendly and confidential terms with everyone present, and Fatty and Flora knew most of the guests well enough to chat with them easily. Pippin was also at ease among these thoughtless young hobbits, for he was of their age, just turned three-and-thirty, and had met many of them during his earlier visits to Buckland. His recent return from his travels made him of particular interest, and he regaled an enthralled audience that included the Pebblebrooks, Violetta Marishe and Hyacinth Bunce with tales of his life with the circus and displayed a few modest sleight-of-hand tricks. If he grew more vivacious after Merry's arrival, and paid more attention to Hyacinth, Frodo guessed that this was because he wanted to demonstrate that he wasn't hurt by Merry's rejection and could still have fun without him.

When Celie, Melly, and Merry arrived, they were accompanied by Amarilla Underhaye and a male hobbit whom Frodo had noticed at the funeral, but didn't recognize; he looked to be at least forty, dark haired and handsomely dressed.

Melly was talking with Amarilla as if they were old acquaintances, which they probably were if Amarilla had been a friend of Melly's older sister. It didn't strike Frodo as remarkable that his girl-cousins should be attracted to an intelligent and artistic young lady who lived by herself. Amarilla made a striking contrast to the rest of Celie's and her brothers' friends, but it wasn't so strange that the two would take up with each other after Mentha had died and Melly had married and gone away.

Amarilla introduced their companion. "This is my cousin, Darco Underhaye. He lives up near the Brandywine Bridge, but happened to be here today."

When she introduced Frodo, her cousin bowed to him rather stiffly and regarded him with interest and a curious expression of distaste. "Ah, yes. The famous investigator."

"Do we know each other?" Frodo asked. He didn't recall meeting Darco before, but the name was vaguely familiar and Darco seemed to dislike him for some reason.

"No, we haven't met, Mr. Baggins, but I've seen the results of your work before. I was a friend of Val Stillwaters," Darco explained. "I know what your investigation did to him. And after you were done, you went off from Budgeford. You didn't see how upset poor Luddy Binglebottom was because you asked him about Val--to help Val, you said, only it didn't turn out that way, did it?"

Frodo understood why this hobbit should dislike him over the Stillwaters affair, which had been tragic all around, but he couldn't be contrite over Val's fate. "I won't apologize for doing more than upsetting Mr. Binglebottom," he responded. "I meant to find proof Val's guilt or innocence, and your friend agreed to answer my questions. If I hadn't gone to him, I would have come to you or another of Val's friends."

"If you'd come to me, Mr. Baggins, I would have lied."

"You say that, knowing what you do now about Camellia Stillwaters' whereabouts?" Frodo asked incredulously.

"Val would then still be alive," Darco retorted.

"But Camellia wouldn't be." That left Darco momentarily nonplussed; he had no reply. Frodo retreated from the quarrel that was about to arise, and next asked, "Are you also a friend of my cousin Doderic, Mr. Underhaye, or of Merimas?"

Darco shook his head. "Neither. I came to Bucklebury to visit Amarilla, and since I'm not well acquainted with the Brandybucks, I thought it best to accompany her rather than intrude too long as a stranger at Brandy Hall. I'm afraid I didn't know your dead kinsman at all, but I was once a friend of another cousin of yours, who is also dead."

"Berilac," said Frodo, not surprised that Berry's name should come into this again. He seemed to be everywhere. "Did you never meet Celie before today?"

"The widow? I saw her once or twice when I visited Berilac." Darco turned to watch Celie, who had gone with Melly to greet her friends and receive sympathetic hugs, squeezes of a hand, or kisses on the cheek. "She was only a little girl in those days, but she's grown into a charming young lady. I can see why someone might kill for her, but I suppose you'll find that unlucky person and see him hanged too." With another stiff bow, he turned to find his host.

Amarilla had stood by and listened to this exchange without word, but her face was flushed and she looked acutely embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Baggins," she said once her cousin had gone. "I had no idea Darco thought so harshly of you, but I should have guessed. He was devastated when his friend Val died, and I've known him to be... unforgiving of lesser slights."

Frodo assured her that he didn't blame her. The effects of an investigation on the innocent as well as the guilty was something he never liked, but it was unavoidable.

They talked about his previous cases. Amarilla asked about the book he was writing and his travels beyond the Shire. Frodo told her about places he'd seen, the ones he could describe with wonder and recall without pain: Rivendell, Lothlorien, Minas Tirith. Frodo wondered at first if she was trying a flirtation; he couldn't help being aware that, in spite of his doubtful health and peculiarities, he was considered an eligible bachelor, but Amarilla's interest in him seemed to be purely intellectual. He had been to places she'd never heard of and read books on subjects most hobbits were entirely ignorant of, and she was eager to hear about both.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Celie.

"Celie's a sweet girl," Amarilla told him. "Naive, yes, but she's still very young. Under the proper influences, she might grow into a lady of distinction. I think the elder ladies of the Hall did her a grave disservice. What she needs is an older sister to guide her, as poor Mentha did when she was alive. It's a pity Melly has left Buckland. She would do very well. At least, Celie's brothers have had the sense to marry intelligent girls a little older than themselves to befriend her, and I try to do what I think Mentha would have in my place, though of course I don't have the influence she did."

"It will be easier for you now that Merimas has gone," Frodo observed.

She gave him a sudden, sharp glance. "That's true," she admitted, "Merimas didn't approve of my friendship with his wife. I suppose Celie's told you that. He thought I was a bad influence, since I advised her to stand up to him when he treated her like a wayward child, or insulted her unjustly. Husband or not, he had no right to speak to her that way. He didn't approve of me as Mentha's friend either, but he had no power over his sister's choices. He couldn't bully her as he did poor Celie."

Even though Celie had said that she hadn't told anyone about Merimas's accusations, Frodo wondered if she had confided something of them to her friend. Amarilla's remarks suggested that she had a good idea what their quarrels were like.

The reception went on until late afternoon. When the last of the sandwiches and cakes were depleted, the guests began to think of dinner and straggled off in little groups after they'd made their farewells to their host and hostess and to Celie. Then Celie herself returned to the Hall.

"Thank you, dear Dodi, for having this party," she said to her brother before she went. "It's made me feel so much better--better than I would sitting and weeping with Mama and Aunt Melisaunte." Her spirits had obviously risen since the funeral and the color was coming back to her cheeks.

Marleduc, perhaps goaded by Frodo's observation that Celie wouldn't remain a widow long, offered to escort her home. After they'd gone off in the direction of Brandy Hall, his brother Eliduc went alone across the fields toward Bucklebury.
Chapter 12 by Kathryn Ramage
Once the last guest had gone, Isalda sat down on one of the garden benches and sighed deeply in relief. "I was afraid this was going to be awful. I don't like suspecting our friends, but they didn't guess they were suspected--thank goodness!--even though we pried and pumped them so shamelessly."

Dodi and Ilbie were not present, and had presumably gone into the cottage. Estella, feeling tired, had likewise gone inside. The rest of the group remained in the garden as the shadows grew long and the air began to cool with the sunset, and they told Frodo what they'd learned through their prying and pumping.

Celie's friends had been more forthcoming with Frodo's cousins than they had been with him. Speculation about whom Celie would marry now that she was free of Merimas ran rampant. Everyone assumed that it would be one of their own circle. The Marishe sisters favored Oleander over Hyacinth, but the married ladies said that this was because the Marishes preferred Hy for themselves--to be specific, for Violetta--and could afford to be more generous with Oleander since he had never shown much interest in them.

Pippin laughed when he heard this. "Oh, they won't catch Hy that easily!" Merry gave him an odd look.

Neither unmarried boy had given his opinion on the question, but the other lads thought that Marly had the best chance of marrying into the Brandybucks, since he was a Brandybuck himself, if he would be bold enough to take it. One wag suggested that Master Merry could quash all scandals and find two ready-made heirs if he married his young cousin. Everyone agreed that no matter whom Celie chose, he would be a better husband than the one she had lost.

They were all aware of Merimas's treatment of Celie; they had witnessed the dancing incident in this same garden last week and had been talking about it amongst themselves since. All the girls said Celie had confided to them about even more awful incidents that had occurred in private, which confirmed Frodo's idea that she had told them enough to guess even if she hadn't revealed the whole truth.

"Which one do you think did it, Frodo?" Pippin asked.

"It's difficult to see any of them as a brutal killer," Frodo admitted. "They look like an entirely unsuspicious lot. They all seem fond of Celie, and none of them liked the way Merimas behaved to her."

"Nobody did," said Merry. "You didn't and neither did I, but we wouldn't have broken his head in for it."

"No, nor would most of her friends," agreed Frodo. "But somebody must have felt particularly strongly about it if they'd struck Merimas down."

Had someone killed Merimas for Celie's sake? At present, that was the most likely theory. Frodo considered his suspects in this light.

Dodi and Ilbie were protectively devoted to their little sister and would surely have hated Merimas if they'd known the worst of how he'd treated her. That they hadn't known about his accusations concerning Berry was a point in their favor--Frodo felt sure one or the other would have given himself away by now if they had. Also, they had had little opportunity to do anything on that fatal night, even allowing for the ten or fifteen minutes they'd been smoking here in the garden or Ilbie's walk home. It was possible that one or both might have gone out later in the night to kill Merimas, but how would they know where to find him, when nobody had seen where he'd gone?

What about Marleduc, who looked to be in love with Celie whether or not she knew it? In spite of his protests that she considered him merely a friend, many of their mutual friends seemed to think he was a good candidate for becoming her next husband. Or could it be one of the other lads he had met today? Oleander Woodbury and Hyacinth Bunce appeared to be silly and harmless boys. One of them might end up marrying Celie after a suitable period had lapsed, but could they have killed her existing husband for the privilege? Or could one of them have done it as a chivalric gesture to rescue the girl from her unhappy marriage?

What of Celie's other friends, who had no romantic interest in her but also saw how unhappy Merimas made her? Amarilla, for example, obviously disliked Merimas as much as he had disapproved of her; she might have thought that he stood in the way of Celie growing into the sort of woman she ought to be. Amarilla was trying to be an older sister to Celie, a role Mentha had also assumed... and Frodo knew well what Mentha had done to defend a younger sister. Would Amarilla do the same?

As much as he would like to believe that Darco Underhaye had somehow been involved because of his connection to Berry, and because Darco had been rude to him, Frodo couldn't find a plausible reason for him to kill Merimas. Unless he was lying, Darco hadn't even known Merimas nor seen Celie since she was a child. But what, he wondered, had Amarilla meant by her cousin being 'unforgiving' of slights?

Might Celie have done it herself? She had been out that evening; he and Merry had heard her shout Merimas's name before he'd gone past Crickhollow's gate, and Ilbie had seen her return to her own cottage later on. She said she'd turned back right away rather than leave her children alone for long, but what if she had gone after her husband to continue their quarrel and things had turned violent? It was an unpleasant thought, but Frodo knew he had to consider it as he would consider every other possibility.

He asked the others about the story Eliduc had told him regarding Merimas and 'a girl or two who could tell a tale.' Had any of them heard similar gossip? As a group, they were shocked at the idea. Merimas? Impossible! He was the most rigidly respectable Brandybuck of the last three generations.

Then Melly said, "I've never heard of any scandal connected with my brother, but now that you speak of it, Frodo, I remember when Mother and Aunt Hilda first made the match between him and Celie. Merimas was reluctant. I thought that there was someone else he wanted to marry instead of Celie. It's only an impression I had. He didn't actually tell me so. He never spoke a name. But I wonder if he didn't resent Celie because of it."

"Can I ask?" Frodo looked at his cousins seated around him; he was glad that Celie was gone and her brothers weren't present, for it was very delicate question. "It's something I've often wondered about. We were away, Merry, Pippin, and I, when Celie and Merimas were wed. As I've heard the story, when Celie started to grow up and take an interest in boys, everyone was anxious to see her married before she went too far with one of them and there was a public disgrace. I've heard stories about her and Berry especially. But when they chose a husband for her, the aunties picked Merimas."

"Yes, that's right," answered Melly. "They thought he'd steady her."

"But why not choose Berilac, if he and Celie were- ah- headed for scandal together? He wasn't already betrothed to Mentha, was he?"

"No," said Melly, "that was later. Berry took up with my sister after Celie's and Merimas's wedding."

"Then why? Was there something against him?"

"I thought that Father and Uncle Merry and the aunties all had the highest opinion of Berry as the perfect example of a well-behaved hobbit-lad," Merry agreed dryly. "They didn't learn what he was really like until after he was dead, and- um- the truth had to come out." He looked in Melly's direction, and she nodded.

"They did think so," said Fatty, and laughed. "You've got it backwards, Frodo. I wasn't here to see everything that went on, but I sat with Uncles Merry and Saradoc in the study once or twice and listened to them discuss it. It wasn't the aunties who objected to Berry. It was Uncle Merry who wouldn't hear of a match. He thought Celie was too scatter-brained and flighty to be a fit wife for his son. He wanted someone more sensible for Berry--he was the one to push for the match with Mentha. Berry was never keen on the idea himself, but he cosseted up to Mentha to make her fall in love with him, and went chasing other girls all the while, and we know how badly that ended. It might've turned out better if Celie had married Berry. They might all be alive now, Merimas included."

"Do you think that has something to do with this, Fatty?" asked Frodo.

"I don't know, but you obviously think it does," Fatty replied. "Why take so much interest in Berry otherwise?"

"It's just that his name has come up so often since Merimas was killed," Frodo explained. "If anybody's haunting us, it's Berry, not Merimas." The ladies shuddered, and Pippin looked at the dark shapes of the rose bushes around the garden as if he expected to see Berry's ghost among them. "Perhaps it's only a coincidence. A violent death in the family naturally reminds everyone of the last time something similar happened. But I can't help feeling there is a connection."

Dodi came out of the kitchen door and looked around the garden at everyone who was there. "Have you seen Ilbie?" he asked them. "'Stella wants to go home, and I can't find him anywhere. He's not inside, nor out front. I've even been up and down the lane. I can't believe he'd go back to the Hall without her, or at least without telling her--or me. If your team of investigators has found Merimas's murderer, Frodo, perhaps you'll give me a hand in finding Ilbie next."

Frodo rose from his seat on the bench. "When did you see him last?" he asked not only Dodi, but the rest of the group.

Everyone agreed that Ilbie had been present when the guests had begun to disperse, but no one was certain when they'd seen him after that. Estella, who was reclining on the sitting room sofa before the fire when the others went in, said that she thought he had gone into the cottage just before Celie had left, and she'd come in after him about ten minutes later and looked around before asking Dodi.

Ilbie had only gone back to Brandy Hall, they all assured her. It was odd that he hadn't spoken to anyone before leaving, but there was no reason to be alarmed; everyone said so as they lit torches from the sitting room fire and went out to look for him. Melly, who walked home with Estella, agreed she would return to tell them if Ilbie was there, or join the search if he hadn't been found yet. The rest of the party went off in different directions from Ivysmial, searching the lane, the footpaths that led through the freshly ploughed fields and tall grass of the meadows between the cottages and Bucklebury.

Frodo took the lane toward the main road by the river, peering in under the bushes and trees on either side as he went. He stopped at Dinodas's cottage to find his aged uncle alone at his own supper; no, Dinodas hadn't seen Ilbie since the funeral, nor had he heard anything since he'd come in--but he didn't hear much at all these days.

He next went to look around Celie's cottage, which was dark and locked up. He was just considering going into the golfing meadow behind the cottages, although Ilbie would have no reason to go there at this hour of the evening, when Merry shouted from the other side of the lane, "I've found him! Come help!"

Frodo turned and ran as fast as he could toward flaring light of the upraised torch Merry was waving. There were other torch-lights in the darkness, also heading toward the spot.

Ilbie lay face down beneath the overgrown shrubbery that bounded the yard of an empty and long-disused cottage, not 100 yards from Ivysmial. He was bleeding from a wound on the side of his head. Merry was already crouched over him, pressing a handkerchief to the wound, but Dodi also rushed to kneel at his side and tried turn him over.

"He's still warm... Oh, he's breathing!" Dodi cried in obvious relief. "He isn't dead."

"No," said Merry, "but he's been badly hurt. He's been hit just the way Merimas was. Pip, will you run into Newbury and fetch a shirriff?"
Chapter 13 by Kathryn Ramage
They carried Ilbie back to the Hall on a stretcher improvised from wooden planks from the fence and a blanket, almost in parody of the funeral ceremony earlier that day. He was taken to his room and put to bed, where his mother and Esmeralda worked quickly to clean and bandage the wound on his head. The blood that soaked his hair and covered the side of his face was alarming, but once it had been washed away, the injury itself was discovered not to be so bad. There was an ugly purplish lump rising beneath the cut skin, but no sign of a cracked skull. His right forearm had been broken, either while defending himself or when he'd fallen, and this had to be set and tightly splinted.

Estella stood by, doing what she could to aid the older and more experienced ladies in their nursing. When Frodo came in to see how Ilbie was, she turned to him and said, "You'll find who did this, won't you, Frodo? It must be the same person who killed Merimas. But why would he want to hurt my Ilbie?"

Frodo was wondering the same thing himself. Why Ilbie? He had discovered a number of people who might wish Merimas harm, but Ilberic Brandybuck was an affable, harmless somewhat silly boy who could be an annoyance at times, but whom nobody could hate enough to kill.

Was it because Ilbie was assisting him in investigating Merimas's death? Had the inquiry among Celie's friends brought them too close to the murderer? True, Dodi had done more to assist him than Ilbie by gathering the suspects at Ivysmial and introducing Frodo to them, but the two brothers looked very much alike. The assault had occurred near Dodi's home around sunset. Could the one who'd struck Ilbie have confused one lad for the other in the fading evening light?

Or had Ilbie himself found out something that made him a danger? Ilbie had disappeared before the rest of Frodo's cousins had told him what they'd learned in conversing with the guests. Perhaps he had heard some piece of information that the murderer couldn't let him repeat to Frodo or anyone else.

Or... a more horrifying thought occurred to Frodo. Perhaps the killer had not struck at Merimas or Ilbie for personal reasons, but because he or she bore a grudge against the Brandybuck family? Were they all in danger?

They wouldn't know more until Ilbie awoke, and no one could say how long that would be. Frodo left Estella sitting at her husband's bedside, holding his hand, and went down to the drawing room where the rest of the family had gathered. Pippin had brought in Hob, as the shirriff on duty, to hear their accounts of how and where they had found Ilbie. While the others were all talking at once, Celie sat, utterly stunned and bewildered by this second assault on someone close to her.

"We'll have to go out to that place again when it's light and have a look around," Hob said to Frodo when he came into the room. "Like as not, it was a rock that was used, as with Mr. Merimas, only Mr. Ilberic was more lucky."

Dodi asked, "Is it because we've been helping you, Frodo? Is that why Ilbie was struck down?"

"I believe so," Frodo answered. "I can't think of a better reason myself why anyone would want to attack him."

"If this person means to dissuade us from investigating, it won't work. This won't frighten me off--it's only made me more determined. I'll do whatever I can, Frodo, to see my brother's avenged. They won't get away with this!" Several of the others made sounds of agreement, although they weren't as fierce about it as Dodi was.

"If what you're saying's so, and the one who killed Mr. Merimas is going about to stop Mr. Frodo investigating," said Hob, "it might be best if you stayed here safe at Brandy Hall awhiles, and didn't go out walking by yourselves in the dark. You and your missus are stopping here tonight, Mr. Doderic?"

"Yes, we certainly are," said Isalda, and hooked her arm around her husband's.

"I want to be near Ilbie in any case," Dodi agreed.

"And what about you, Mr. Frodo...?" Hob turned to him.

"I planned to go back to Crickhollow tonight," Frodo answered.

"I wish you would stay here," Merry said solemnly. "You'd be much safer."

"I've been threatened by murderers before," Frodo replied. "I won't be intimidated."

"It's not threats I'm worried about. I don't want to find you lying in the lane tomorrow."

"If you don't mind me saying," Hob offered tentatively, "if you're bound to go, Mr. Frodo, you oughtn't go alone. I'll walk with you, as I'll be going that way anyway."

"I think that's a very good idea," Merry agreed. "Watch out for him, Hob. See he gets to his cottage safely."

The shirriff bowed and tugged the brim of his feathered cap. "I'll do my best, Master Merry."

After he bade goodnight to his family, Frodo walked back to Crickhollow accompanied by Hob, who kept a wary eye on every shrub and copse of trees they passed. Frodo pointed out where Ilbie had been found and, when reached his cottage, he and Hob arranged to meet again at mid-morning to examine the spot more closely. Hob saw him to the cottage door and had a peek into all the rooms to be sure there was no intruder hiding before he went away.

Although Frodo wouldn't admit it to his family, who were frightened enough by this latest assault, he was nervous. For the first time, he locked both the front and kitchen doors and barred the shutters over the windows before he went to bed.

He almost regretted not taking up the invitation to stay at the Hall tonight. He and Merry had not had a moment alone together since this tragedy had begun, and he missed that keenly now that he was alone and afraid. It would be a comfort to have someone close beside him in the darkness. He and Merry had always made an effort to be discreet, but whole family knew about them; they would surely turn a blind eye if he were to steal into the Master's bed-chamber in the middle of the night. Perhaps tomorrow night...
Chapter 14 by Kathryn Ramage
The next morning, Frodo went with Hob to view the place where Ilbie had been attacked. The empty cottage was across the lane from Dinodas's and Celie's, behind an overgrown shrubbery in a little yard of grass and flowers grown wild and entangled with weeds. Ilbie had been found in the eastward side of this area, the side nearest Ivysmial. In the daylight, Dodi's and Isalda's cottage was easily visible from the dilapidated yard, and presumably vice versa. Frodo wondered what had brought Ilbie here last night to be struck down; if there'd been any quarrel or struggle, they would certainly have heard it.

As it had been where Merimas was killed, the grass here was too trampled down to tell much of a tale, but in searching the yard, Frodo found a short, thick section of a tree branch with muddy-red but recent stains of blood on it. This branch lay several feet from where Ilbie had been found, before the brick facade of the empty cottage, as if the assailant had flung it as far as he could after striking his victim with it. Hob put this important clue into a sack he had brought with him, and took it back to Newbury to be stored in a strongbox with the rocks that had been gathered near the Hedge.

When he left the cottage, Frodo went to the Hall to learn how Ilbie was recovering, and to speak to his other cousins.

"You were all of great help to me yesterday," he told them. "I'll need your help again today. I want to interview everyone invited to Ivysmial, find out where they went when they left us, what time they returned home, and if they saw anything on their way. You realize now that asking such questions may be dangerous. I won't blame anyone who wants to stay out of the investigation from now on."

"Of course I'll do it," said Dodi. His wife looked anxious, but he was firm about this. "I said so last night, didn't I? This creature's attacked my brother now too, and I won't stand for it."

"I'm not afraid," said Melly.

"You can count me in too," Fatty added. "I know 'Stel isn't afraid either, but I think she'd feel better sitting by Ilbie rather than going out and asking questions. She doesn't want to be away from him any longer than she can help, in case he awakes."

"Then he hasn't woken up yet?" Frodo asked, and received several sorrowful shakes of heads in reply.

"He's opened his eyes a few times and stares as if he doesn't know where he is or who we are," reported Dodi, "then he goes back to sleep. He hasn't said anything--at least, not a word that makes sense. But that's quite the usual thing for our Ilb."

"You'll have to leave Celie out of it too," said Melly. "I know she wants to help, but this second attack has upset her terribly. She's sure it's all happening because of her. She shut herself in her room after you left last night, Frodo, and only came out to go up to the nursery with me this morning. I think she'd been crying the whole time between."

"May I make a suggestion?" asked Fatty. "If we're going to go into people's houses, asking questions of possible murderers, we ought to go in pairs to be on the safe side. In light of what happened to poor Ilbie, we can see that this person won't hesitate to strike again. I think it's best if at least one other person always knows our whereabouts, and we stay in sight if we can."

Merry nodded in agreement. "None of us should wander alone." He looked at Frodo in particular as he spoke, for he'd been surprised and concerned when Frodo had arrived at the Hall by himself, unaccompanied by a shirriff.

Dodi wrote out his guest list from the previous night and the group gathered around to decide who was going to go with whom and which people they would talk to. Frodo chose the persons he was most interested in speaking to for himself, leaving the less threatening prospects for the others. "I think I'll begin with Marly and El."

"But Marly went off with Celie," said Merry. "We all saw them leave together."

"Yes, I know, but what about his brother? Where did Eliduc go? I also want to talk to Miss Underhaye and that cousin of hers."

"Why Rilla?" Melly wondered.

"They were the last to go, and I have an idea that she knows more about Celie's personal difficulties than anybody else. She seems the most likely confidante."

"All right. I'll go with you," Melly volunteered.

"I'll take Hy Bunce," said Pippin. "Not that I suspect him of anything, but he's a nice-looking boy, don't you think? Maybe I can steal him away from those Marishe girls."

"You're not talking to him alone," Merry replied severely. "I'm going with you and see you don't get yourself into trouble."

Pippin grinned, pleased at this announcement.

Isalda insisted that she wasn't afraid for her own safety, but for her husband's; she was sure Dodi would be struck down next. Fatty promised to keep close watch over Dodi while they called on the Downends and Oleander Woodbury. Flora convinced her sister to accompany her to call upon the Marishe girls, who were the most unlikely suspects, but had walked home by way of the lane past the cottages and might have seen something.
Chapter 15 by Kathryn Ramage
After seeing Fatty, Flora, Dodi, and Isalda off toward Bucklebury Ferry to interview the guests who lived south along the river or on the other side, the other four walked together in the opposite direction, around the northern side of Buck Hill to Bucklebury. There, they parted, Frodo and Melly to call upon their Brandybuck cousins in town, and Merry and Pippin to find Hyacinth Bunce, the Biggs, and the Pebblebrooks.

Marleduc was at home with his father and mother, Emeliadoc and Sirabella Brandybuck, but just about to go out when Frodo and Melly met him at the front door of the smial. The family had heard the news about Ilbie and were stunned and horrified, although they were very much relieved when Melly told them he might yet recover.

"You're looking for the person who did this, aren't you, Frodo?" Marleduc asked quietly while Melly spoke with his parents, who were her aunt and uncle. "You must think it's the same one who killed Merimas. How can I help? I'm very fond of Ilbie, you know. He's one of my dearest friends. I wouldn't see him hurt for the world."

"You might be of help," Frodo answered. "Did you see or hear anything on your way home last night, Marly? We're asking everyone who was at Dodi's and left around the same time as Ilbie went missing. Until he wakes, we've no idea why he left Ivysmial, how he came to be in the yard of the empty cottage, or who might have struck him. You and Celie walked across the fields to the Hall, isn't that right?"

"Yes, you saw us go." Marly thought for a moment, then shook his head. "We didn't see anyone in the fields, except for one or two others walking back from Dodi's, but they were heading away from us. We went into the Hall garden over the stile by the Bucklebury road and I left Celie at the back-parlor door."

"Then you went straight home yourself?"

"Yes. There were some other people walking along the road betwixt the Hall and Bucklebury with me, but they were all folk from the town or the farms on the other side going home after the funeral themselves. No one odd. I saw nobody off the road, but it was growing dark by then and the road's far from where Ilbie was attacked, wasn't it? You said you found him by one of the empty cottages."

"Yes, that's right" said Frodo. "What time did you get home?"

"It was just after dark--six o'clock."

"Were your brother or parents here ahead of you?"

"Mother was home, and Father came in just after me. Eli didn't come until later." Marleduc began to regard Frodo with suspicion, as the true point of these questions dawned on him. "Ask Mother if you like. Father and Uncle Gorby weren't far behind me on the road from the Hall. They were arguing about something or other, but they must've seen me and can tell you so."

"There's no need." It was Eliduc's, not Marleduc's, comings and goings that interested Frodo. It struck him as odd that Eliduc had walked directly to Bucklebury from Ivysmial while his brother had taken a longer route and had walked more slowly with Celie, yet had gotten home first. "But I'd like to know why Eli came in so late. After all, he left Dodi's just after you did."

"How should I know?" Marleduc shrugged. "I suppose he stopped off at the Buckle's Notch for a half-pint before coming home to dinner. I couldn't blame him if he did, could you? It was an awful day for all of us, and Dodi couldn't give us a beer at his house--that would make it a party and everybody would say that was scandalous right after a funeral. As a matter of fact, Eli's there now and I was going to join him. Why don't you come along and you can ask him yourself?"




"Why didn't you go with him?" Melly asked after they'd left the smial and were standing outside the gate, watching Marleduc go down the steep street toward the heart of Bucklebury. "It seems rather early in the day to visit a pub, not even lunch-time, but you wanted to talk to Eliduc too."

"They're probably meeting their friends there, to talk about what's happened."

"Then we why don't we follow? It'd be a good chance to ask them all at once." Her expression brightened. "It's because I'm with you, isn't it?"

This was part of his reason; Frodo didn't want to drag Melly into a public drinking-house, nor did he want to leave her behind unattended.

Melly seemed to perceive this protectiveness without receiving an answer, for she smiled. "For all your unconventional ways, you can be an awfully old-fashioned gentleman sometimes, Frodo! Almost as bad as Merimas about what's proper conduct for a lady. Ladies do occasionally go to pubs, you know. Remember that little chit of a girl Pippin thought he was matched to marry?"

Frodo had to smile in return. "You mean, if somebody tried to start a fight with me, I can count on you to give him a good thumping like Di Took did for Pip?" This made her laugh for the first time since she'd arrived for her brother's funeral. "Have you even been inside a pub, Melly?"

"I've been to the Notch before... once or twice, with Dodi. If you really don't wish me to go, why don't you go on to the Notch alone, catch up with Marly and ask Eliduc your questions? I'll pay a call upon Rilla and have a chat with her. She might tell me what she'd keep from you, and you can meet me there when you're done interrogating the boys."

"Where does Miss Underhaye live?"

"At the top of the hill, in one of those little bungalows." Melly turned and pointed up toward the end of the street, to a row of brightly painted doors of various colors along a ridge just beneath the crest of the hill. "I'll be quite safe with her. I've known Rilla Underhaye for years. And besides, you think it's Marly, or Eli, or both." She turned back to him and lowered her voice to ask, "Do you think they're lying for each other, Frodo? But why?" Melly's eyes were wide. "Why would they want to kill Merimas? For Celie's sake? But why hurt Ilbie too? They've been his friends since they were children."

Frodo shook his head. "I don't know. I've thought of several possible reasons why someone would strike down a lad as harmless as our Ilbie, but I can't say which, if any of them, is true. They mightn't have wished him or anyone else harm at first, but now that they've committed a murder, they'll have to protect themselves now, whatever the cost. That's why I'm afraid we might all be in danger." He didn't voice the other, darker reasons he'd thought of; he wanted Melly to be aware of the danger, but he didn't want to frighten her unnecessarily with the phantoms of his imagination. "It mayn't be Marly and Eliduc. After all, Eliduc may have only stopped off for an ale last night, just as Marly says, and that's why he got home later than his brother. When I ask him, I'll see what tale he tells."

They were about to part, each to their different destinations in opposite directions, when they heard a door slam loudly higher up on the hill. When they looked up, they saw that Darco Underhaye was exiting his cousin's cottage. He shut the garden gate with the same force and rushed at a stiff-legged, swift walking pace down the street toward them. They didn't need to see the expression on his face to guess that there'd been a quarrel.

"Mr. Underhaye-" Frodo tried to speak to him, but Darco only muttered, "Pardon me!" and tugged his hat in a semblance of courtesy at Melly as he went past.

The door opened again; Amarilla stood looking down, watching her cousin go. When her eyes fell on Frodo and Melly, she smiled. "Are you intending to pay me a call?" she asked them.

Frodo changed his mind about going to the Buckle's Notch. He was more interested in finding out what lay behind Darco's anger, especially if it had anything to do with his case, and he didn't want to hear about it second-hand. "If it's not an inconvenient time," he answered.

"Not at all. Come up! I'll give you some tea."

"Eliduc can wait," he told Melly softly. She took his arm, and they went up to Amarilla's house.
Chapter 16 by Kathryn Ramage
Merry and Pippin had first called at the Bigg's smial and found Aramanta Biggs home alone; her husband, she told them, had gone out to the Buckle's Notch. Everybody was talking about poor Ilbie today. Since she had little more to tell them, they went to the Buckle's Notch next, and found not only Walderic Biggs, but Layther Downend, Lido Pebblebrook, Hyacinth Bunce, and Eliduc, all sitting together, talking excitedly.

Merry immediately focused his attention on Hyacinth Bunce, who was a cherubic boy of thirty with a round-cheeked, pink face and strawberry-fair curls. Merry had never paid much attention to him before--Hyacinth had been too young for him to notice during those days when he'd played about with the other boys in Bucklebury--but now he decided that he didn't like that silly, babyish face at all.

"He isn't that good-looking," he murmured under his breath.

Pippin grinned. "Not your sort, Merry? Well, that's not so surprising. You never had much taste for blond boys, except for Ferdi that once. You prefer dark-haired lads, don't you? The paler, the better, with the biggest blue eyes..."

"Shut up, Pip."

Pippin shut up, but continued to smile as they joined the group at the table. They were greeted with cries of surprise, and a barrage of eager questions:

"Imagine, Master Merry Brandybuck making two appearances at the Notch in one week! This is an occasion! What brings you here at this hour when you should be managing Buckland?"

"How is Ilbie? Poor chap. How awful this must be for his wife, and her with a baby on the way!"

"And poor Celie too, so soon after Merimas!"

"Is he going to be all right? We've heard some ghastly tales about how badly he's been hurt, but nobody seems to know anything, except that he isn't dead. Thank goodness for that, at least."

"Who could've done such a terrible thing? Is it the same person who killed Celie's husband? I daresay it is!"

"There must be a mad-hobbit running wild. Something ought to be done about it."

"Something is being done," Merry responded rather snappishly to this last, fatuous remark from Hyacinth. "That's why we've come, looking for all of you. We wanted to talk to everyone who was at Dodi's yesterday. We're hoping you saw something while you were walking home last night." Like Frodo, he tried to treat Dodi's guests as potential witnesses rather than suspects; they would only become angry and less willing to talk if he and Pippin made accusations.

While Pippin purchased a fresh round of ales for everyone at the table and handed the mugs around, Merry asked the group if any of them had seen anything odd or any strangers. No one had seen anything unusual. "There were a lot of people out and about last night after the funeral," said Lido, "but nobody who looked strange."

"How would someone look just after coshing a person over the head?" countered Eliduc. "He might look just the same as you or I, and not the least mussed."

None of them could recall the last time they'd seen Ilbie before they'd left Ivysmial, nor had they noticed him walking off. The interview would have been merely mildly disappointing, except that Pippin smiled at everything Hy Bunce said, and encouraged him to prattle on; Merry found this irritating.

"Did you all go straight home?" asked Pippin.

"I did. Hazel and I didn't want to be late for dinner," Layther answered. "My father-in-law's terribly punctual about meals and wouldn't wait for us."

"The rest of us stopped off here," said Walderic, "except for Marly. He had other reasons to tarry." In spite of the serious situation, small, knowing smiles flickered on several of the young hobbit's faces at this remark.

"Perhaps he finally worked up the courage to say a word to Celie... or at least take her arm while they were walking!" Eliduc said with a laugh. "It's early yet, but once she's over the shock of losing her husband, she might welcome a sturdy arm to lean on. You'll have to step quickly, or give up hope of catching the pretty young widow yourself, Hy!"

Hyacinth blushed at this japery. "We're only friends," he answered. "I never thought of marrying Celie, or any girl."

"Not even Violetta?" teased Lido. His wife Lilaca was the elder sister of the three unmarried Marishe girls.

The boy blushed more pinkly, and Pippin smiled meaningfully at him and put a hand over his on the table. "Don't you care for girls, Hy?"

That was too much for Merry. "Marry the Marishe girl if she'll have you," he told Hyacinth sharply, "but don't expect to get in with any of my relatives, my lad. You won't, if I have anything to say about it."

Hyacinth stared at him, mouth open soundlessly and face bright with shame, wondering what he'd done to offend Merry. The other lads around the table likewise looked appalled; even Pippin, who'd been trying his best to provoke a reaction, was shocked and drew back his hand.

Merry suddenly felt ashamed of himself. The boy, after all, hadn't done anything to deserve such an insult. "I'm sorry," he said. "I beg your pardon, Hy. Only, I'm sick of these jokes at Celie's expense." As if that was what he was angry about! "She only buried Merimas yesterday, and stick-in-the-mud or not, he was a kinsman of mine and he was murdered. Show a bit of decency, can't you?"

Some of the young hobbits murmured apologetically, but Eliduc said, "You have changed since you became Master, Merry! You never used to care what was decent. You were worse than the lot of us together."

"Me included!" interjected Pippin.

"You gave all the boys something to live up to in the ways of naughtiness, and taught us a thing or two. Pity you've grown up and got so stuffy."

"Where's Marly now?" asked Merry, ignoring this jibe.

"Home," Eliduc answered, "but I expect him along any minute."

"Were you here last night, El?"

"Yes, I was!" When he saw his brother come in at the door, Eliduc rose and went to greet him. Darco Underhaye came into the pub a moment later and went to the bar.

"Eli was here, but he wasn't with us most of the time," said Hyacinth, trying to be helpful and expiate the unaccountable dislike Merry seemed to have for him. "When I came in, he was sitting over there in the corner with somebody we didn't know."

"Who?" asked Pippin.

"Some lad, not one of our circle," Walderic answered. "He sat with his back to the door so we couldn't see his face very well. He was wearing a black coat, but so was everybody who was at the funeral yesterday. A rather shabby coat, I fancy."

"Now there's a mysterious stranger for you!" cried Layther.

"But he couldn't have been hitting poor Ilbie at the same time he was sitting here. Nor could Eli, if that's what you're thinking, Merry."

It did seem unlikely, Merry had to agree.

Marleduc came over. "I'm not surprised to find you and Pippin here," he said to Merry as he dragged another chair to the already crowded table while Eliduc went to get him an ale. "Frodo Baggins and Melly have just been to call at our house, asking about our comings and goings. I suppose you two are going around asking everyone who was at Dodi's last night where they were when Ilbie was attacked too? There's quite a collection of investigators up at the Hall these days."

"Ilbie and Merimas are our kinsmen," Merry answered, "and yours too, Marly Brandybuck. I think you'd want to help."

"I'd be happy to, if only Frodo didn't keep looking at me as if he was sure I had something to do with it. He's got his eye on me for some reason. I haven't done a thing--not to Merimas, and not to Ilbie! All this talk of what a wonderful detective he is has gone straight to Frodo's head. I know he's your particular boy-friend these days, Merry, but can't you do something about it before he has the sherriffs arrest me?"

While his relationship with Frodo might be known among the Brandybuck family, Merry could see by the wide-eyed reactions of the lads around the table that it wasn't known to the rest of Buckland--at least, not until now. "You won't be arrested if you haven't done anything," he assured Marleduc. "I'll see to that. No one needs to be afraid if they're innocent. But Frodo's got to ask questions if we're to find out who is going around hitting Brandybucks over the head. It's got to be stopped before someone else is hurt or killed."

"Well, he shouldn't be asking questions of us," said Marleduc. "Plenty of other people worth suspecting first."

"Speaking of questions, who were you talking to, Eli?" Pippin asked abruptly.

"When?" Eliduc asked back, startled.

"Last night, here."

"Oh." Eliduc turned to look at the unoccupied table where he'd been sitting, as if his companion of the evening before might still be there. "Nobody. Just one of the farm-lads. They don't usually come into the Notch, but he'd been at the funeral and wanted a drop of ale afterwards, same as everybody else. He was telling me that he and his brother were the ones who found Merimas under the Hedge."
Chapter 17 by Kathryn Ramage
"You must be wondering why my cousin Darco stormed out of here in such a fury," Amarilla said to her guests as she poured them each a cup of tea in the tiny parlor of her smial.

The entire smial was tiny and cozy, with climbing yellow roses just beginning to bud on the brick façade and lace curtains in the front windows. It reminded Frodo of the equally small smial in Budgeford where his Aunt Asphodel lived--a home arranged for the convenience and comfort of one lady with some taste but not much money at her disposal.

A painting hung over the parlor mantelpiece: a portrait of Amarilla with her hair down and tumbling in highlighted red waves over her shoulders. Behind her was a bank of roses in bloom, but whether it was the front of this smial or the garden at Ivysmial, Frodo couldn't tell. Even if Celie hadn't told him about this painting, he would have known that the artist was his late cousin Mentha.

"I can guess what the trouble was," said Melly. She appeared to know something about Amarilla's argument with her cousin already; Frodo knew nothing.

"I daresay you've guessed right, my dear." Amarilla turned to Frodo and explained, "Darco wanted to marry me when we were younger. Perhaps he still does. Our family seemed to think it the natural thing for us to do, but I didn't wish it. I don't mean to marry, not Darco or anyone. I'm sure you understand, Mr. Baggins. Not everyone is suited for marriage, isn't that so?"

Frodo nodded. "Celie told me Merimas didn't approve of you because you didn't want a husband."

Amarilla laughed. "Oh, Merimas had plenty of reasons to disapprove of me! My solitude is the least of it. But I happen to like living alone. I've got a little money--enough to do as I like. I've found a pleasant house to live in that belongs to me and no one else, and I have my friends about me when I wish for company. What's wrong with that?"

"Not a thing," said Frodo. "I'm much the same myself."

"Yes, I thought so, since you have that cottage at the end of the lane and keep so much to yourself. Only, a gentleman can get away with living alone if he likes. No one seems to think it improper. Ladies can only manage it when they're very old and don't have to worry about their reputations. But I say there's no shame in being a spinster if it's one's own choice, and it's better than making a bad match. Not everyone has a happy marriage." She glanced at Melly with a quick look of concern and when their eyes met, Melly looked down into her teacup.

"No," Melly agreed, "not everyone."

"But Mr. Underhaye doesn't think so," Frodo said, even though he was intrigued by this odd exchange.

"Darco can't understand my desire to be by myself," said Amarilla. "He thinks that, even if I refuse to have a husband to look after me properly, I ought to return to my family at Top Hay so they can care for me. He's very much alarmed by these attacks on your relatives. I've told him it's unlikely that anyone would want to strike at me."

"He's not staying here, is he?" asked Melly.

"Oh, no! There's no room for him, and there'd be scandalous talk even if he bedded down on the sofa. He's staying at the Buckle's Notch. I suppose he's gone back there."




While Pippin continued chatting with the other hobbit-lads, Merry went to the bar, ostensibly to refill his mug, but primarily to strike up a conversation with Darco Underhaye. He knew that Frodo was suspicious of this outsider, and wasn't entirely sure why, but it seemed like a good opportunity to talk to him.

Darco had ordered his lunch and settled down at a small table near the bar with a large piece of game pie and a half-pint. As Merry stood at the bar, waiting while the maid refilled his mug from one of the enormous kegs stacked on the other side and watching the young hobbits laugh at something Pippin had said, the older hobbit smiled and said, "I sometimes find it hard to believe I was ever such a witless young fool myself, but it's true and not so long ago."

"I'm beginning to think the same thing myself," Merry agreed.

"Join me, Master Meriadoc?" Darco invited him to sit down. "I can't promise the conversation will be more intelligent, but it won't be so loud. I've heard a great deal about you over the years, although we haven't had much chance to become acquainted before."

"From my cousin Berry, I suppose," Merry said as he took a seat across the small table from Darco. "You used to be his friend, didn't you?"

"Yes, poor lad. He did talk quite a lot about you. You're right, of course, he had little good to say, but that was mostly jealousy on his part. Not for the usual reasons people would say he had to be jealous of you, however. I believe it was because you got away with so much. Berilac wanted desperately to be considered a respectable lad by his elders and still get up to fun with the girls without it spoiling his reputation. He was terribly afraid of what people would think."

"I'd say most hobbits are like that," Merry answered. "They want to look respectable, even if they aren't."

Darco grinned at this. "But not you, Master Meriadoc, from what I've heard. I suspect you're not afraid of anything."

"One or two things," Merry admitted, also smiling, "but they aren't to be found in the Shire. After you've been out in the Big world and seen some sights to truly terrify, it's hard to be frightened of what folk have to say. It doesn't seem to matter much."

"Ah, that explains it! I must say, I've admired your boldness in the face of all the scandalous talk one hears about you. You've weathered it marvelously well, where a more timid hobbit would've been ruined, and you've managed to knock down some of our stuffiest Shire conventions. Things that respectable hobbits wouldn't admit to in whispers get spoken of openly these days as if they were nothing remarkable."

"I didn't set out to change the Shire," Merry said. "I only wanted to mind my own business and live my life in peace and privacy like anybody else."

"But change it you did. I don't know if your way isn't better," Darco confided. "You don't get tangled up with women, and that's where the worst trouble lies. Poor Berilac couldn't keep away from them, and look how he ended up! And my friend, Val Stillwaters, went mad with jealousy over his wife. It's a wonder that there aren't more murders committed over them! I've no doubt that when Mr. Baggins learns who killed your kinsman, it'll turn out that it was all for the sake of that charming little wife of his."

Merry didn't tell Darco that Frodo's suspicions were indeed running along the same lines. Even though he didn't "like" girls himself, he generally got on well with women and he was surprised to hear this diatribe against the whole sex. He wondered which woman in particular had brought it on.

"Boys aren't any easier to deal with," he answered. He was still keeping an eye on Pippin at the other table; since he'd left them, he'd observed that Pippin was no longer going out of his way to flirt with Hyacinth. "There's one I'd especially love to throttle."

Darco laughed. "They couldn't be as bad. My cousin Amarilla, do you know her?"

"Slightly."

"She's the worst of the lot. Hates all things male, and takes it out on me." He leaned on the table toward Merry and lowered his voice. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least if she were the one who got rid of your cousin Merimas to free his little wife... if you see what I mean."

Merry nodded. "I think I do. But she never had a chance to hit Ilberic last night, did she?"

Darco's eyebrows went up. "You think it's the same person, do you? Well, you're right--Amarilla couldn't have done anything while she was with me. We walked back into Bucklebury together when we left your reception, but I didn't go as far as her house up on the hill. I offered to see her home, but she wouldn't have it. Who knows if she went straight there when we parted? She might've gone anywhere, or done anything."
Chapter 18 by Kathryn Ramage
"It wasn't Celie she was referring to, was it, when she spoke of unhappy marriages?" Frodo asked Melly after they'd left Amarilla's smial and were heading back down the steep street. "When you arrived at Brandy Hall, you said you meant to stay on awhile, and not go back to Tuckborough. You must have told her more than you told us."

"Yes, I told Rilla, and Mama and Aunt Esme too," Melly replied. "I came home because of Merimas, and I mean to stay because Mama needs me at this awful time, but I also thought it best if I live apart from Evvy for awhile."

"What's wrong? He doesn't run about with- ah- boys or anything, does he?"

"Oh, no. Nothing like that. We don't get on, that's all." She sighed. "I knew his faults when I married him. I knew he had a weak character, but I fought to win him back even though I had the opportunity to break with him after Toby was killed. I've no one but myself to blame. If it weren't for little Addy, I'd wonder if I'd made a mistake in not accepting you instead." She gave him a sidelong glance, then laughed. "I daresay I'd be just as unhappy with a husband who disappeared from the Shire for months at a time without warning and took up with Merry."

Melly was the only girl Frodo had ever considered marrying, and he wondered now what it would be like if she had accepted his proposal two and a half years ago. Their marriage would probably not be very different from the relationship he currently had with Merry, for even if she was female, Melly was also a cousin he loved dearly, if not passionately. They might have had a blue-eyed baby boy like little Addy, since Melly had wanted a child and he would make the effort for her sake. Could he have found some measure of contentment in the sort of life that most hobbits desired, even if he'd never really wanted it for himself? For a time, perhaps. But he wouldn't have gone to Minas Tirith a second time even at Gandalf's and Aragorn's bidding if he'd had family responsibilities to keep in the Shire, wouldn't have received Arwen's gift, and would therefore still be seriously ill. If Melly made a mistake in marrying him, she wouldn't have been stuck with it for long, but she would've been burdened with an invalid before she was free.

"I daresay you're right--I would've made you unhappy in other ways." He took her hand. "You know I'll always be a friend to you if you need one."

"You are terribly sweet. Frodo. Perhaps I simply needed to come home to think things through," Melly said. "I've been so long away. The Tooks are kind, but I missed the Hall and everyone here. I was eager to leave after Mentha died, but I'm glad to be back again now. I only wish it were a happier occasion."

They walked down the street toward the dell containing the few shops and post office at the bottom of Bucklebury. As they approached the Buckle's Notch, they met Merry and Pippin coming out. If the two were somewhat prickly with each other, Frodo and Melly didn't note it as unusual. When he found out that the pair had already spoken to Eliduc and Darco, Frodo decided not to go in. Instead, they compared notes and discussed the matter while standing in the high street.

"Eli does seem the most likely suspect for striking Ilbie," said Frodo, "providing that he did it to protect his brother--who might have killed Merimas--and that he did it before he went to the Notch last night. That's entirely possible. We don't know precisely when Ilbie left us. Everyone thought he'd gone into the cottage. He may have already been assaulted while the first guests were leaving, or it may have happened later, while we were talking in the garden."

"But I don't think it was Marly who killed Merimas," countered Pippin. "He sounded so insistent about having nothing to do with it. I know, he would, even if he did do it, but I believed him."

"And there is Amarilla to consider," said Melly solemnly, for she didn't like the idea. "She does care very much for Celie, as an older sister might, and she was angry at the way Merimas treated her. Frodo, you don't think her cousin is right in what he said about her, do you?"

"I'm sure Darco only told me what he did because he wanted me to think she's up to something, whether she is or not," Merry tried to assure Melly. "The way he feels toward her, he'd say anything poisonous he could think of, just out of spite."

"Miss Underhaye may have her reasons for hating Merimas," Frodo agreed, "but I don't think we should take her cousin at his word. I have plenty of suspicions, but I need to know more before I can come to any definite decision about anyone. We still have to hear what the others have to say too."

"If you've no further need of me for the present, I'd like to go back to the Hall," said Melly. "I left Addy with Celie and the nursery-maid, but I can't leave my baby on their hands all day."

"Yes, of course," said Frodo. "You've been a great help, and I'm glad we had a chance to talk as we did. Merry, Pip, you'll see Melly home, won't you?"

"And where are you going, Frodo?" asked Merry.

"I want to have a word with Merimas's friends," Frodo explained. "I've been wondering if he told them anything of his quarrels with Celie, or that other matter. If there's any truth behind that old gossip about Merimas, his friends might be the only ones to know about it."

"Except for the girl," chipped in Pippin.

"Only we don't know who she is, if she exists at all," retorted Merry.

"Merimas's friends don't all live in town," Frodo continued his explanation. "If I go out to the Pogs farm, I'll be close enough to Newbury to visit the shirriffs before I'm through for today. I don't expect to be finished until late, so I won't try to come to the Hall for dinner. I'll hear the others' reports tomorrow--unless they've discovered something too interesting to wait, in which case, you can find me at Crickhollow."

"Someone ought to go with you," said Merry, stepped closer to him. "I'll go if you want me to."

"Then you'd have to walk home down the lane alone! Unless," Frodo added softly so that Melly and Pippin couldn't hear, "you'd like to stop the night at the cottage."

"I'd like to, but you know I can't," Merry said apologetically in the same soft tone, "not with things as they are. Why don't you come back to the Hall tonight?"

"I was thinking about it last night, but I expect I'll be too tired to do much more than go to bed after I've walked around half of Buckland. I'll be all right, Merry," Frodo promised him. "I'll keep to the roads. I won't go near the Hedge or any other lonely spots, and I won't wander around after dark."

"You ought to be armed if you're going to be out alone," Merry insisted. "Where's Sting?"

"Hanging over the fireplace in my sitting room." Frodo picked up a short piece of wood from the side of the road. "There, that'll do to defend myself if someone tries to do me harm in the lanes. I'll see you all in the morning." He turned to go around the eastern foot of the hill, toward the oldest smials in town, where Gorbulac Brandybuck lived.

"You ought to have a proper bodyguard!" Merry called after him.
Chapter 19 by Kathryn Ramage
The Marishe sisters declared that there were wild-eyed, frothing-mouthed lunatics behind every bush they'd passed on their way home last night. There were Marishes on both sides of the Brandywine River, in the southern portion of Buckland and around that marshy part of the East Farthing from which the family took its name; these Marishes made their home on a dry patch of land between the marshes and the river's western bank, a mile or so south of the Bucklebury Ferry crossing.

The three girls, with their eldest sister, Lilaca Pebblebrook, who had come over from Bucklebury that morning to bring them the news before Flora and Isalda had arrived, were all fluttering with fear and excitement as they told the visitors of their dangerous journey the evening before.

"We would have been too terrified to go at all, if it weren't for Oleander!" exclaimed Dioica. "He was most kind, and saw us safely across the river and right to our door."

"Who knows what might've happened if it weren't for him?" squeaked Lavendula in horror. "We might all have been murdered!"

"But you didn't actually see anyone when you were walking down the lane toward the river after you left our cottage, did you?" Isalda asked. She was generally a sensible girl not given to exaggeration or hysterics, and tended to be impatient with people who were. She tried to be patient with the Marishe girls now. For all their silliness, they might have something important to tell that would help find who had attacked Ilbie before Dodi was injured, or worse.

There was a hasty conference among the sisters. "No," Violetta admitted, and sounded disappointed. "Only old Mr. Dinodas Brandybuck, coming up the lane the other way, coming home from the Hall."

"Oh, I say! You can't think he would do such a thing!" cried Lavendula. "Not Ilbie's own granduncle!"

"No, of course not," said Lilaca. "Whoever it was must be a stranger, some mad creature who's come into Buckland."

"Did you notice anything odd at the empty cottage across from Uncle Dino's?" Flora asked them.

The girls hadn't noticed the empty cottage at all. "But I'm certain that someone was about," insisted Violetta. "Someone must have been."

"I thought so last night," Dioica said. "Even before poor Ilbie was hurt, when we were all at Ivysmial, I was sure that something awful was about to happen. I felt as if there were some danger nearby, lurking in those tall hedges beyond the lovely rose-garden, watching us and waiting..." A little shudder trembled through her. "Oh, it gives me a chill to imagine it!"

Isalda and Flora met each others' eyes and silently agreed that "imagine" was the perfect word.




Dodi and Fatty, meanwhile, had gone to talk to Oleander Woodbury. Oleander had grown up in Bucklebury, but had lately been living with relatives on the western side of the Brandywine River, north of the Ferry outside Stock.

"Frodo gave us the longest journey," Fatty grumbled as they walked up the road along the river.

"Not to mention the least likely suspects," added Dodi. "Even if Oleander wants to marry Celie, I don't see him bashing her husband and brother over the head to manage it. It'd hardly put him in good favor with her! And I can't imagine the Marishe chits doing anybody harm."

"Yes, but I expect that's why Frodo wanted us to talk to them rather than go into Bucklebury," said Fatty. "It's less dangerous."

"For me, you mean?"

Fatty nodded. "Isalda won't have to worry so much about you running into a murderer out here, nor will Celie or your mother. Nobody can sneak up on us." On this side of the river, the road to Stock ran atop an earthwork causeway above the wetlands; there were tall rushes, but no bushes, hedgerows, or clumps of trees for anyone to hide behind. A view of Brandy Hall was visible beyond the row of old willow trees across the broad, brown sweep of the Brandywine. "Besides, I'll help you fight if a murderer shows up."

"If I do meet the person who hurt Ilbie, Fatty, I won't need much help," Dodi promised grimly. "It'll end up worse for him than us."

The Woodburys hadn't heard the news yet, and Oleander was shocked when Dodi and Fatty told him. Ilbie was one of his best friends. "This is all so like a nightmare," the boy said. "I can only imagine how horrible it must be for your family, for poor Estella and for Celie." He wanted to go back into Buckland with them, to see Ilbie and express his sympathies. The three hobbits were on the causeway again, heading back toward the Ferry, within a few minutes.

Along the way, Oleander told them that he'd walked with the Downends and Marishes on the road past Brandy Hall last night, parted with the Downends at the Ferry and, once they'd crossed the river, seen the girls to their home before walking the rest of the way by himself. He'd noticed nothing remarkable that would help them find who had hurt Ilbie.

When they reached Bucklebury Ferry, they found Flora and Isalda sitting on the bench by the landing platform, waiting for them so they could cross the river and go back to the Hall together.

"Did the Marishes have anything to say?" asked Dodi.

"Too much to say," his wife answered dryly, "and none of it useful."

"Murderers everywhere," Flora added. "I don't suppose you saw anybody when you were with them in the lane, Oleander?"

"I've already told Dodi and Fredegar, I didn't see anything, nor did the Marishe girls while I was with them," Oleander answered, "but I wasn't with them in the lane by Ivysmial. I went the other way around, on that footpath that cuts across the fields, and met them and the Downends on the main road to the Ferry."

Dodi stared after the younger hobbit as Oleander stepped with the ladies onto the Ferry. "That path goes right behind the empty cottage," he whispered to Fatty. "He must've seen something. Or else..." His eyes narrowed in growing suspicion, and he took a step forward.

Fatty put a hand on his arm to restrain him. "Keep your head, Dodi, old lad. You don't know he's the one. You're not thinking clearly. Wait 'til we sort it all out."
Chapter 20 by Kathryn Ramage
Frodo put down his stick outside the gate to Gorbulac's smial before he went inside. After the recent assaults on other Brandybucks, it wouldn't do for anyone, even the famous investigator, to be seen going about town brandishing a weapon.

Gorbulac Brandybuck was over fifty, a first cousin to Merimas's late father Marmadas, and a sort of favorite uncle to the younger hobbit. As when Frodo had called on him two days ago to try and find out where Merimas had gone, Gorbulac said he would be glad to do anything that aided in the capture of "my poor boy's" murderer, but he shut his lips tightly with disapproval when he heard Frodo's questions regarding Merimas' courtship of other girls before he married.

"Merimas never misbehaved himself, young Frodo, if that's what you're trying to suggest," he said indignantly. "He was always a proper gentlehobbit in the old-fashioned way, just as his father would've been proud to see him be. He was only a lad of five-and-twenty when Marmadas died, but he promised to look after his mother and sisters as if he were grown and of age, and he did his best for them. He never had time for foolishness, not like so many young Brandybucks these days, running about in all sorts of wild and scandalous ways."

"I'm not suggesting anything disgraceful, sir," Frodo said when he could get a word in. "But I thought that if he'd been sweet on any girl before he was matched to Celie, he might've confided in you about it."

"Now there you're right, my lad, he would've told me if he'd had anyone else in mind for a respectable match--but he didn't! So he couldn't have, and there's no other reason Merimas would court a girl." After some grumbling and filling his pipe, Gorbulac settled down and told Frodo confidentially, "Mind you, I wish there'd been some other suitable girl for him, rather than that little half-Bracegirdle miss who was pushed upon him. She wasn't suited for him at all, but he was bound to do as his mother wanted, as a proper, dutiful son. But he never complained of her, for all her reckless behavior. Time and again, he'd come to sit with me and have a pipe, and I saw he was upset about how she'd played him a fool."

Frodo thought that Merimas must have complained at least a little for Gorbulac to know so much about it.

"I could see there'd be trouble between them one day--and wasn't I right? Now he's dead, poor lad, and has she shed a tear? No. That fast bit of baggage went off to a party and was walking by twilight with some young lad the same day as Merimas's funeral! I saw them myself."

"That was Marleduc," Frodo explained. "He was escorting Celie home from Ivysmial."

"Yes, that's what the lad's father said," Gorbulac answered. "He was there with me--Merimac was seeing us out at the back gate of the Hall, and those two came in across the meadow. Emeliadoc would have it there was nothing scandalous in their walking out together so, but I'd say he has hopes for his son and the widow--and may they have better luck of her than poor Merimas did!"

Gorbulac had more to say on the subject of Celie's disgraceful conduct before and after Merimas's death. While he did not come right out and say that she had murdered her husband, he made it clear that he was certain she was behind it.

When he left Gorbulac, Frodo next visited Salvo Goldworthy, then Ulmo Pogs at his farm on the far side of Buck Hill to the south, but they had even less to tell. If Merimas had ever been involved with another girl, they'd never heard about it. Like Gorbulac, both bore a grudge against Celie, which suggested to Frodo that Merimas had talked to them about his quarrels with her, and may have even told them of his suspicions about Berry and Celie.

It was four in the afternoon when Frodo left the Pogs farm and headed northward on a narrow and deeply rutted cart track that bent and curved around the fences and stone walls that bounded the farm pastures and ploughed fields. He might as easily have taken the path that ran beside the Hedge, which lay a few hundred yards to the east and was frequently used by farmers to reach Newbury, but he'd promised Merry he wouldn't go that way. Even though it seemed unlikely that the murderer was still hanging around the place where Merimas had died, Frodo felt reluctant to go near it alone himself. Now and again, he caught glimpses of the dark wall of yew beyond the trees; the sun was still high, but the sight made him feel uneasy and walk more quickly.

As he approached the point where the cart road met the Hedge lane, he became aware that someone was there ahead of him... waiting for him? Frodo stopped. "Who is it?" he called out nervously, and wished that he'd kept that stick after all. He began to look around for something else he could use to defend himself if necessary.

"'Tis Ted Todbrush," came the answer, and the figure came closer to peer at him. "Is that Mr. Baggins, as is kin to the Brandybucks?"

"Yes, it is," Frodo answered in relief. "I'm going into Newbury. And you?"

"I'm going t'High Hay." The farmer bowed his head to tug his cap. "D'you mind if I walk aside you?"

"No, I'd be glad of some company. We're very near the place where my cousin Merimas was killed, aren't we?"

"I just walked past meself, sir," Tedro agreed.

As they walked toward Newbury, Frodo began to feel nervous again. Tedro seemed like a harmless enough farm-lad, but it occurred to him that Merimas might have met his fate under similar circumstances, encountering a seemingly harmless person in a quiet place. Now that he thought about it, hadn't he glimpsed a hobbit rather like Tedro Todbrush wandering about when he and Melly had met Merry and Pippin in the Bucklebury high street barely more than an hour ago? He also recalled what his cousins had told him about Eliduc's sitting with one of the Todbrushes at the Buckle's Notch after Merimas's funeral.

"The High Hay is your usual haunt," he said. "Do you go into Bucklebury often?"

"Me?" Tedro's eyes were wide at the question. "No, Mr. Baggins. I hardly ever go there."

"But you were at the pub there yesterday, weren't you--or was that your brother?"

"No, sir. 'Twas me." Tedro seemed to feel that this contradiction required some explanation, for he went on, "'Tisn't usual-like for me to stop in there, but Jeb 'n' me was at Mr. Merimas's funeral, and a fine un it was, if I might say so, but afterwards I thought as I'd like sommat to drink and didn't want to walk so far as to Newbury for it. Now Jeb, he said he didn't like to push himself in amongst the fine folk there, but went home ahead o' me."

"I believe you spoke to one of my cousins, Eliduc Brandybuck."

"Was that his name?" asked Tedro. "He didna say, but I guessed as he was a Brandybuck-lad. One o' them lads looks just like t'others, save Master Merry 'mself. When I told this lad how it was Jeb and me as found poor Mr. Merimas over by t'Hedge, he wanted to hear all about it."

This matched Eliduc's account, and Frodo had to admit that it sounded like a perfectly innocuous, if somewhat morbid, topic of conversation between two people who happened to meet by chance in a pub. Nothing mysterious or suspicious in it at all. He began to feel rather silly that he'd been wary of the young farmer. He must be mistaken about the hobbit he'd seen in Bucklebury; it was surely some other farm-lad who'd come into town.

"Did you talk about anything else?" he asked.

"Oh, this 'n' that," Tedro answered diffidently. "Nought much o' concern."

Once they were in Newbury, they went their separate ways--Frodo to visit the shirriffs, and Tedro to the tavern.
Chapter 21 by Kathryn Ramage
Frodo returned to Crickhollow in the late afternoon. He unlocked the cottage door and went into the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. He'd spent very little time here the last few days, and had been going to the Hall regularly for meals, but as he'd anticipated when he'd left his cousins in Bucklebury, he was too tired to do so after his ramblings and didn't want to walk so far tonight, nor come back along the lane in the dark. Milli had only been coming in for an hour or two in the mornings to make his breakfast and do whatever cleaning up was necessary around the cottage before going home, but she'd left a plate of apple and raisin crumb-cobbler on the kitchen table for him. That would be sufficient to keep him from starving before morning.

He made a cup of tea and took some of the cobbler, and settled down with his dinner in the study. He was looking over the last pages he'd written in the Red Book, also several days ago, when he heard the garden gate creak open. He rose from his chair, wondering who could be coming to see him at this late hour, half-hoping Merry had come to see if he was all right, and half-fearing there'd been another family tragedy. He peeked cautiously out through the little round window beside the front door.

Sam was coming up the walk toward the cottage.

"Sam!" Frodo cried out in involuntary surprise, and hastened to unbar the door. "Sam, hello!" he called out again as Sam saw him. "I'd no idea you were in Buckland! Whatever brings you here?"

"You," Sam answered bluntly as he headed up the walk toward the cottage. "I got the letter you wrote about your cousin Merimas dying. I wrote back saying I was coming as soon as I could, and then started out right afterwards. I expect I got here faster'n it did. I was just asking after you at Brandy Hall. Master Merry told me you were out here by yourself and said as I ought to go see that you'd got back safe and weren't lying in a ditch someplace with your head broken in. They're all worried for you up at the Hall--Master Merry, Pippin, her ladyship, and Missus Took."

"Mrs. Took?" Frodo echoed. "Oh, you mean Melly."

"I told 'em I'd be right back if you weren't here and we'd go out looking for you." Sam reached the door, where Frodo stood waiting, and stopped to study his face. "You're all right?" He put up one hand to Frodo's cheek, but Frodo ducked back to elude the touch.

"Perfectly fine, thank you!" he said. "Come inside, Sam, please. You must have been riding all day. Are you hungry? I'm afraid there isn't much to eat, but we can always go back to the Hall for dinner. They won't mind another guest or two." Frodo knew he was babbling, but he felt nervous, even awkward, faced with Sam alone after so long a time. It wasn't as if they'd quarreled; they were still on good terms with each other, but they weren't as close as they'd once been. He didn't know whether to give Sam a friendly hug, or a more-than-friendly kiss. Everything had once been so natural between them, and now he wasn't certain what gestures of affection were appropriate.

Sam had no such qualms. Once he had entered the front hall, he picked Frodo up in a fierce hug that took his toes off the floor. Frodo had forgotten how exciting it was to be swept up like this. His heart was pounding by the time Sam set him down again and he felt more flustered than before.

He took Sam into the kitchen. In addition to the cobbler, there was also some bread and cheese in the larder. While Sam ate, Frodo asked about everyone in Hobbiton. Sam gave him all the news but, just as he did in his letters, talked mostly about his daughter.

"Nel's walking already, did I tell you? And she can say 'Daddy' clear as anything. We're hoping the next one'll be a boy, but I wouldn't mind another girl if she's as sweet as my Nel. You have to see her, Frodo. She's the loveliest thing. She'll be the prettiest girl in the Shire one day, mark my words. Lad Whitfoot says the same about his little girl. Now, I mean no disrespect. Willa's a pretty enough baby. She takes after Angelica, but my Nel is the image of Rose."

"I suppose they'll be the fiercest rivals when they're older, or the best of friends," said Frodo. "Probably both." It struck him as a sign of how far Sam had come up in the world, that he spoke of Lad and Angelica without prefacing their names with 'Mister' and 'Missus.' Lad and Angelica had likely insisted on it when they'd befriended the Gamgees, and Frodo blessed them for it. "And how is your job as Chief Shirriff?" he asked.

"Not so busy as your Chief Muggeredge has it here. Robin Smallburrows and the other lads 'round Bywater come to me if anything's happened. There's been a robbery or two--those boys, Sancho and Will, up to their usual mischief. As there was nothing I was needed for in Hobbiton when I heard your cousin was killed, I thought I'd come and help you, just as I used to." Sam had carried his red-feathered shirriff's cap tucked into a coat pocket, but he took it out now and set it on the table to show he had come in an official capacity as well as as a friend. "'Tisn't my part o' the Shire, but I stopped at Newbury to have a word with Chief Muggeredge, and he said he didn't mind if I gave a hand to solving these murders with you if Master Merry didn't. When I was at the Hall, thinking you'd be there, Master Merry said he didn't mind either, and it was good to see me. It'd be just like old times now we was all together again."

"It will be. How wonderful of you to come and help, Sam!" said Frodo, touched by his friend's unwavering loyalty.

"It's not the only reason I've come, Frodo," Sam answered. "I was meaning to come after you soon anyway. I want you to come home."

"I'd been planning to," Frodo told him. "I meant to write you about it just before this terrible business began. It's my book, you see. I've gotten to the worst part and don't remember what happened to us in Mordor well enough to write it down. I thought I'd come to Bag End for a week or two, you could tell me everything you remember so that I could finish the story."

Sam had brightened hopefully at the beginning of this announcement, then looked disappointed as Frodo went on. "That's not what I mean," he said. "I want you home again, for good 'n' all. You've been away long enough. I waited all winter for word that you were ready to come back to Bag End, but you never said so and if you're living out here by yourself, they don't need you that bad. After we're done here, you're coming back with me." It wasn't a request, or a demand, or a plea, but a simple statement of fact.

"Oh, Sam..."

"You don't know how much I missed you," Sam went on before Frodo could say anything. "It's more'n I can stand. Don't you want to come home?"

"It isn't that." How could he explain? "I've missed you terribly, Sam, but I've chosen to stay here. It's for the best, for you-"

"No, it isn't!" Sam stopped him. He rose to take Frodo by the forearms, then kissed him so hard that he saw stars. "It's never best if it takes you from me."

Frodo couldn't answer. Everything he had to say had gone out of his head. He'd forgotten too how wonderful it was to have Sam kiss him like this. It didn't occur to him to put a stop to it. To the contrary, he reached up to take Sam's head in his hands and melted against him. When he darted his tongue out between Sam's parted lips, Sam drew slightly back at the unexpected incursion and stared at Frodo in surprise, before Frodo pulled him back again.




"You've got some color in your skin," Sam observed later. It had grown dark by that time, and Sam had lit a candle when he'd rose to wash up. He now sat at the edge of the bed, gazing down at Frodo with a sort of wonderment, as if he had never seen him naked before. "You aren't so pale as you used to be. I noticed it right away, the minute you came to the door. There was color in your face that wasn't there before." He ran a hand over Frodo's flank, which was rosy in the dancing light of the candle's flame, then took him by one shoulder to make him lie flat on his back to look him over. "You've put some weight on too--not enough, if you ask me, but you aren't all bones like you was when I saw you last. And there's the way you were acting, pulling me about, pushing me down 'n' climbing all over me. 'Tisn't like you. You're getting better, aren't you? I knew you would, if only you'd rest and not go running all over and tiring yourself out."

As Sam caressed Frodo's bare chest with the knuckles of one hand, each deliberate stroke sent little shivers of pleasure through him. There was a special thrill in the way Sam touched him, as if he had every right to do as he pleased. Frodo felt possessed as he never did when he and Merry made love, but then Merry never wanted to possess him. They were fond of each other and had a great deal of fun together in bed as well as out, but there was never this wild desire between them. This need that overwhelmed his senses and even his common sense.

He'd surprised Sam with his ardor tonight. During the worst of his illness, he had been by necessity a passive participant in their love-making; he simply didn't have the energy to do more, and he wearied too easily if he tried. But he was stronger now. Also, his experience with Merry had taught him a thing or two about enjoying sex for its own sake, and he'd been encouraged to how to use his celebrated imagination to discover new pleasures. He'd put this education to the test with Sam, and he could see that Sam didn't know quite what to make of it.

"What's this?" Sam had taken the gemstone that lay on Frodo's breastbone between his thumb and forefinger. "I never seen you wear jewelry before, except..." The Ring really didn't count.

"It's a gift." Frodo closed his hand over Sam's.

"From who? It looks Elvish."

"It is. The Lady Arwen gave it to me, in Minas Tirith." Should he tell Sam what else the Lady had given him, the promise of an escape to the West when he could no longer live? Whether he went away eventually or died made a great deal of difference to Frodo himself, as far as Sam was concerned, he would be gone forever either way. Maybe it was better not to tell Sam until that time was closer at hand. "It's the reason why my health has improved," he explained. "It makes the pain easier to bear."

Sam smiled. "There, now! I knew the Elves could do something for you. Things'll be different once we're home again."

Frodo decided not to answer this either. They were happy for the moment. Why provoke a quarrel that could wait 'til the morning?
Chapter 22 by Kathryn Ramage
When Frodo awoke the next morning, he pulled on his dressing-gown and went into the kitchen. Sam woke up alone a few minutes later, dressed, and came out looking for him. He found Frodo crouched on the kitchen hearth, re-lighting the fire. The tea kettle sat on the floor beside him.

"Here, let me do that," Sam offered.

"Don't be silly, Sam. You're my guest. Sit down, and I'll make tea for us."

Sam sat down at the kitchen table, but watched while Frodo filled the kettle with water from the cistern and put it over the fire to boil, then came back to the table to measure out three spoonfuls of tea leaves for the pot, ready to assist if Frodo had difficulty with any of these tasks.

"D'you make your own breakfasts too?" Sam asked. "Are you left alone here?"

"No, there's a maid-servant from Newbury who comes in to sweep up and make meals for me, and Merry visits nearly every day."

Sam shook his head, dismissing Merry and the services of the maid. "You shouldn't be left by yourself, Frodo, not out here in the middle of the woods with no one to look after you, and 'specially not at nights. What if you have a bad turn?"

"I haven't had a bad turn in months," Frodo answered briskly as he set out the tea-mugs. "Even the last one, in October, wasn't so terrible this last time." He closed his hand around the gemstone dangling on its chain. The Lady Arwen's gift had helped him through that dark day; he was sure of it. The feelings of gloom and bleak depression had come over him on the anniversary of his injury at Weathertop, and the old wound in his shoulder ached as it always did on that day, but he had been up and about. He wasn't able to concentrate well enough to work on his writing, and he'd had no appetite, but he'd gone for a walk in the garden and sat reading by the sitting-room fire until bed-time. He'd felt fine the next day, while one of his bad spells normally left him bedridden for a week afterwards. The pain was still there deep within his heart, but it had become more bearable. And more important, peace had descended upon his mind since Arwen had placed the gemstone around his neck. He was no longer beset by half-remembered terrors, nor was he afraid of what was to come.

"The day when the Ring was destroyed is coming up soon," Sam reminded him--as if he needed reminding! The anniversary was little more than two weeks away.

"I know, Sam. I'll make sure that I'm not alone on that day." He didn't know how bad it would be this year, but he had discussed the matter with Merry, who wanted him to stay at Brandy Hall during his worst day. Frodo was reluctant. While there was some comfort in being attended to at home, among his family, he wasn't certain he wanted them to see him in that terrible, terrifying condition. They wouldn't understand his pain the way Sam did.

"You won't be alone," said Sam. "I'll stay 'til then, and look after you. This investigation of yours won't take as long as that, will it?"

"I certainly hope not. I've already had one investigation interrupted by my worst day, and all the days I had to spent in bed afterward. I want this finished before then. Will you stay, even if I'm finished, Sam? Can Rosie spare you so long?"

"Mother Cotton's staying with Rosie now, and she'll look after her 'til I come back. The baby's not due for months yet, and I won't be gone as long as that. I'll write and tell her how it is." Then Sam began to understand what Frodo had just said. "Don't you mean to come home, even after you're done, Frodo? I thought we'd settled that, last night. After all, we- well, you- You were that keen on it! I thought-"

"Yes, Sam, I remember. It was lovely, but it wasn't a promise that I'd come back to Bag End with you."

Sam had evidently thought it was, for his mouth popped open and then shut again abruptly. He stared at Frodo until he came to a decision. "All right, then. If you won't come, I'll stay here 'til you're ready to," he announced stubbornly, and returned to his theme of last night, as Frodo knew he would. "Won't you please come home, Frodo?"

"Sam-"

"I want you with me," Sam persisted. "You don't know what it's like since you've gone." Tears glistened in his eyes, and Frodo's heart went out to him. "I miss you that much. If it wasn't for my Nel, I don't know what I'd do. I put everything into looking after her. Babies make up for a lot, Frodo. When you think you've turned wrong, you can look at 'em and say 'If I'd gone another way, I wouldn't have her'--and I wouldn't trade her for the whole world."

Frodo came closer to stand beside Sam's chair and put a hand on his shoulder. "Is it... wrong, Sam? You're not-" he hesitated to ask the question. "You don't regret marrying Rosie?" He had given up Sam for Sam's own happiness; if Sam were unhappy, it would be too dreadful! It would be his fault.

"No, it isn't that," Sam answered. "I do love Rosie, and I have my Nel. I can't be sorry for anything that gave me her. They oughta be enough for any hobbit."

"Then what is it?"

"It's you." Sam considered his next words carefully. "If it wasn't for you, Frodo, I would've stayed in Hobbiton all my life, married Rose, and never wished for anything else. I wouldn't ever 've thought there could be anything else for me. But there is you." He grabbed Frodo around the waist and pulled him down to sit on his knee. "You get inside me--into my head and under my skin and right to my heart so I can't think of nothing but how I want you." One hand slipped beneath Frodo's robe, stroking the outside of his thigh, then moving into a more intimate caress. "I lie awake nights beside Rose, thinking about when it used to be you sleeping next to me. It was hard enough to bear when you were off in Gondor. It's worse now you're here in the Shire, so near, but not near enough!"

Frodo put his head down on Sam's shoulder and shut his eyes. He tried to compose his thoughts, to explain that he'd made this choice for Sam's sake as much as his own, but the way Sam was touching him under his robe made it impossible for him to think of anything except the way Sam was touching him under his robe. He felt as if Sam were storming his defenses on a basic emotional level, one that he couldn't argue himself out of. But he couldn't surrender to this assault of the senses, much as he wanted to.

His voice was strained as he answered, "I thought it was best if I stay away. You have your own life now, Sam--a wife, baby, and another on the way. That's your family."

"You're my family too," Sam told him, "as much as Rosie 'n' Nel. Bag End's your home. It's where you belong. If it's Rosie you're thinking of, Frodo, don't you worry. She understands how it is with us, better'n she did. She's no fool. Maybe she was glad when you first went off and stayed away, but she sees now it doesn't stop me loving you. She knows I'm not happy without you. When I told her I was coming after you, she said 'Yes, go. Bring Mr. Frodo home.' I'm here now for you. Why won't you come home?"

Frodo was trying to form a rational answer--even though the last thing he felt was rational--when rescue arrived: the garden gate creaked. "That'll be Milli," he said, and scrambled off of Sam's lap, arranging his disheveled robe to cover himself decently before he let her in.

Milli went straight to the hearth to take the steaming kettle off the fire. "G'morning, Mr. Baggins. I didn't expect you'd be up so early." She eyed the visitor with curiosity as she filled the teapot.

"Milli, this is my friend, Chief Sherriff Gamgee, from Hobbiton," Frodo introduced him. "He's come to help me investigate these awful attacks on my family, and he'll be staying here with me for awhile. Sam, this is Milliflora Pibble, who looks after me."

Milli's arrival put an end to their personal conversation. While she made breakfast, Frodo washed and dressed and, when he returned to the kitchen, Sam was chatting with her about her little boy. Frodo knew that Sam was normally jealous of anyone who had the care of him, being firm in the belief that nobody else could do the job as well as he could, but the two seemed to have gotten on amiable terms over the subject of children.

Over breakfast, Frodo brought Sam up to date on his investigation and told him of the discoveries he had made so far. They were finishing up when there was a knock on the front door, and Milli undid the latch to admit Pippin.

Pippin looked delighted to see Sam there. "We were worried, a bit, when you left us," he told Frodo as he helped himself to a couple of rashers of crisp bacon from his cousin's plate, "but when Sam went looking for you and didn't come back, everybody knew he must've found you here and you were all right. Did the two of you have a nice, restful night?"

"Nice, if not restful, thank you," said Frodo. "Merry let you come by yourself, in spite of the danger?"

"It's all right--I'm armed." Pippin lay a hand on the hilt of the dagger tucked into his belt, the same one the Lady Galadriel had given him in Lothlorien. As he took a piece of toast from the rack, he looked around the kitchen. "D'you know, I haven't been here since Merry and I left. You've fixed it up so, Frodo, it hardly looks like the same place."

"That's because it's been cleaned. Milli sweeps up every day and washes the dishes."

Milli was, in fact, waiting for them to finish eating so she could clear the table, get on with her washing, and return home. Frodo's account of his search for the person who had killed one of his cousins and assaulted another had disturbed her very much and she was eager to be away.

"What've you come for?" Sam asked him.

"I was sent to tell Frodo," Pippin announced. "Ilbie's awake. He's got a splitting headache, but otherwise he's all right."

"Did he tell you what happened?" Frodo asked eagerly. "Does he know who struck him?"

Pippin shook his head. "Dodi was sure it was Oleander Woodbury and was all for going after him, but Fatty wouldn't let him. Ilbie says it wasn't. He's not sure who it was, but he wants to talk to you right away."

"Let's go then." Frodo set down his tea-mug and rose from the table. After forking up a few last bites of tomato and egg, Sam joined him. Before they left the cottage, Sam took Sting down from its place on the sitting-room wall. Frodo, while not armed himself, felt well protected as they went down the lane toward Brandy Hall.
Chapter 23 by Kathryn Ramage
Ilbie was sitting up in bed, propped by a bank of freshly fluffed pillows, his head and arm in bandages, when Dodi brought Frodo in to see him. Estella and Hilda were sitting in attendance, as they had been since Ilbie had been injured, and they both stayed to hear him tell Frodo his tale, even though they had heard it once that morning.

"The first guests were leaving, and some others had gone- ah- into the cottage, to make use of the chamber pots." Ilbie blushed at alluding to such an indelicate subject before a mixed audience. "Ladies, you know. I didn't want to wait 'til they were finished, so I went off into the bushes to relieve myself. While I was- um- off, I saw someone in the yard of that old cottage next door. I thought at first it was Uncle Dino, hunting for a golf ball he'd hit the wrong way, but then I realized Uncle Dino must still be at the Hall and besides it was getting late and too dark for him to start a game. Besides, this person was sneaking and ducking in such a way, it made me think he was watching us at Ivysmial and trying not to be seen."

"He?" echoed Frodo.

"I think so. I didn't see any skirts, but they'd be down behind the shrubbery in any case. I mostly saw a floppy old hat, and I think he was wearing a black coat or cloak."

"Everybody was wearing black yesterday," said Estella, who clung to her husband's uninjured hand throughout this interview. "And lots of people were in hats--the farm-folk, and most of the old people."

"Why, I'm sure that Dinodas was wearing the same battered old hat he does his gardening in!" interjected Hilda.

"Anyway, I thought I'd better go over to see who it was," Ilbie continued. "I went 'round to the back and slipped in through a gap in the hedge--and that's all I remember, except how it hurt." Ilbie lifted his splinted arm to touch his temple gingerly. "I feel like my skull's been split open."

"You're lucky it wasn't!" cried his mother. "My poor darling--but that ought to be a lesson to you not wander off into the bushes like some farm-lad who wasn't brought up properly and knows no better. Now he's awake at last," she informed Frodo, "Esmeralda's given him something for his head. We didn't like to dose him before we knew how bad it was, nor so much that he couldn't tell you what happened to him without it sounding like a bad dream." She took up a small bottle of syrupy black medicine and measured out a few drops into a spoon. "I'll give you a bit more now, and you'll rest and be fine, Ilbie dear. Frodo will find out who's doing these terrible things."

There was little more Ilbie could tell him. Since Frodo did not want to tire the young hobbit while he was recovering, he left Ilbie to the care of his wife and mother, and went down to the drawing room, where he had left Sam and Pippin in the company of the other Brandybucks.

Everyone had heard Ilbie's story, either from Ilbie himself or second-hand, and they were discussing what the appearance of this floppy-hatted stranger could mean when Frodo and Dodi came into the room. Flora and Isalda were in a whispered conference, and were especially eager to talk to Frodo.

"We didn't have a chance to tell you before about our call upon the Marishe girls yesterday," said Isalda. "Most of it was frightful nonsense, but one of them said something you ought to know about."

"It was Dioica Marishe," added Flora, "as silly a creature as was ever born in the Shire. All the Marishes are silly chits. They told us tales of murderers lurking everywhere."

"But Dioica went one better than her sisters--she claimed that she 'felt' someone was hanging about in the bushes, watching us out in the garden at Ivysmial yesterday. Flora and I thought it was only more of their nonsense at the time, until we heard Ilbie's story. It's exactly what he saw too."

"Only poor Ilbie went over to have a look and got coshed on the head for his pains," said Pippin.

"Yes, exactly. So we've been thinking that perhaps this wasn't all a piece of Dioica's silliness and wild imagination after all."

"You mean, she really did see someone, perhaps out of the corner of her eye, enough to remember it later?" asked Frodo.

"Something like that, yes," answered Isalda. "If it were enough to alarm her at the time, she would've said something earlier, wouldn't she?"

Dodi looked thoughtful. "But if there were someone hanging about, hiding over at the old cottage and watching us during the party," he said, "that means Ilbie couldn't have been hit by anybody who was actually at the party. Oleander Woodbury went past the back of that cottage-"

"But after Ilbie had been struck and the watcher had gone away," Frodo said. "Unless Oleander went up and peeked over into the yard, he might very well have seen nothing amiss."

"So you don't have to think any more about hunting him down and thumping his head in in revenge," Merry said to Dodi.

"Then it's not one of our friends!" Celie exclaimed, and looked immensely relieved. She looked up at Frodo. "Does that mean that whoever killed Merimas didn't do it over me?"

She sounded so eagerly hopeful that Frodo didn't have the heart to tell her that, even if none of her friends had harmed her brother, it didn't necessarily follow that they had nothing to do with her husband's death. It was even possible that one of them had a friend or confederate who was actually doing the dirty work. "I think we must broaden the scope of this investigation and consider other possibilities," he answered.

"What do we do now?" Dodi asked.

"I don't know yet," Frodo admitted. "I need to think of who else it might be."
Chapter 24 by Kathryn Ramage
Who else indeed? Frodo pondered the question for the rest of the morning.

He and Sam had been invited to stay at Brandy Hall for luncheon; there was nowhere else to go until he decided how his investigation was to proceed, except back to Crickhollow, and in truth he would rather not be alone with Sam to continue their argument. With so many other people around, he was able to avoid any unpleasant, personal conversations and had time to think about solving his kinsman's murder. Everyone was looking to him for an answer and, at this moment, he had none. The matter seemed even less certain now than it had yesterday, when he had at least thought he knew who his most promising suspects were.

If none of Celie's friends or old boy-friends had killed Merimas to free her from an unhappy marriage, who else had a reason? Ilbie had evidently been struck down for discovering this person spying on them... but why had the killer or his confederate been spying? What did he hope to see? Who precisely was he watching--he, Frodo, or one of the others present? Merry? Dodi? Celie?

The terrible idea that had occurred to Frodo just after Ilbie had been assaulted returned: Could someone bear a grudge against the entire Brandybuck family? Was someone trying to get rid of them all?

Frodo thoughts ran along these disturbing lines until shortly before luncheon, when he rose from the chair he'd taken in the far recesses of the drawing room and went to Merry. "We must have a private word together," he said close to his cousin's ear. Sam, who was talking rather shyly to Esmeralda about his family, looked up at the sound of Frodo's voice and watched as the two went out of the room.

They went without speaking down the broad main tunnel of the Hall to Merry's study. Merry shut the door. "What it is, Frodo?" he asked as he offered a pipe and sat leaning against the corner of his desk.

Frodo sat down in one of the overstuffed leather chairs, and got immediately to the point. "Can you think of anybody who would want to kill off the Brandybucks?"

Merry's eyebrows shot upwards and he let out a huff of breath. "Is that what you think is happening, Frodo?"

"Maybe I've gone mad to imagine something so terrible, but I have been thinking about it," Frodo admitted. "I wondered if there might be someone who sought revenge against the whole family for some reason, or might have another, more material reason to wish us dead."

"You mean, like an inheritance or the Master-ship?"

Frodo nodded. "It seemed the best thing to do was talk it over with you before I said anything to frighten the others. They have quite enough to frighten them without my imagination making it worse."

"There could be plenty of people who'd have cause to resent one Brandybuck or another over the years," Merry said thoughtfully after drawing in on his pipe and letting out a gray cloud of smoke. "Old Rory or Father might've made enemies among the neighbors. The farm-folk have long memories and might carry on a grudge against us long after the old Masters have gone. Maybe one of the Bucklebury Brandybucks remembers Orgulas's quarrel with Gorbadoc and thinks he might make a better Master than me."

"Merry, do you mind if I ask a rather morbid question? If you were to die tomorrow, who would become Master?"

"Uncle Merry," Merry answered promptly, "but his own son is dead, and he isn't likely to marry again and have another at this late date. Dodi would be his heir and the next Master after him."

"Then Ilbie, after Dodi?"

"Yes, that's right, if Dodi dies without an heir."

"And if both Dodi and Ilbie die before they have sons, who's next?" asked Frodo. "Is it Celie, then her sons?"

"I don't know if Celie can be Mistress in her own right. There's never been a female Heir to the Hall before. We've always had plenty of first-born sons to carry on the line, so the question's never come up." Merry gave the matter some thought. "If the Master-ship, or Mistress-ship in this case, didn't go directly to Celie, then I think it would carry on through her to her little boys. Uncle Merry would know for sure. If Dodi and Ilbie and I all die tomorrow, little Mungo would be Heir to the Hall--that's presuming Estella isn't going to have a boy. If she did, then Ilbie's son would take precedence over Mungo and Madoc from the minute he's born whether Ilbie's alive or not."

"Celie's sons couldn't inherit through Merimas?"

"Not likely," answered Merry, and shook his head. "That side of the family is much farther down the line. You'd have to clear out everyone in our branch of the Brandybucks, including Uncle Dino and Aunt Del, Milo Burrows and his children, and you too Frodo, and a number of other Bucklebury Brandybucks before the Master-ship came to Merimas's children through him. I suppose it's possible that one of Orgulas's descendants might be trying to get rid of us all just for that reason, but if it were so, wouldn't they start with somebody more prominent than poor old Merimas? Why wouldn't I be attacked? If somebody wanted to be Master, it'd be more reasonable to get me out of the way first."

"Maybe that'd be too obvious," Frodo answered. "Or else, they know there's no rush in getting rid of you, since you won't be producing an heir any time soon, and they've decided to focus their attention on the young Brandybucks who are starting to have families of their own. And you don't go out walking in the middle of the night in lonely places." He smiled. "If you'd been in the habit of going home down the lane in the small hours after visiting me, I might say you were in some danger too, but you always stayed for breakfast, and you haven't been to Crickhollow at all this past week."

"I know," Merry said. "I'm sorry I've left you out there alone. At least, you've got somebody to watch over you now."

"Yes, and thank you. It was- ah- thoughtful of you to send Sam to me." Merry must surely guess what had gone on at the cottage last night, and Frodo felt somewhat embarrassed and a little guilty; he'd barely given Merry a thought.

But Merry obviously hadn't expected fidelity of him, for he grinned and said, "I told you you needed a bodyguard, didn't I? I was going to have one of the shirriffs take you around, but when Sam showed up, he seemed like the perfect solution to the problem. He's done pretty well looking out for you before."

"Yes, he has," Frodo agreed. "No one better. And you don't mind..?"

"Mind? Oh, not at all!" Merry replied generously. "I knew how it would be once Sam set off to the cottage last night. There's no reason why you shouldn't have a bit of fun while he's looking after you. After all, we always agreed we could see Sam or Pippin if we wanted. Enjoy yourself, and don't trouble about me."

Frodo believed that Merry meant every word of it; he could usually tell when his cousin was lying. "He wants me to go back to Bag End with him," he said.

"What did you say to that?" There was a change in Merry's tone; he was watching Frodo carefully for his answer.

"I said I wouldn't, but we're still- ah- discussing it."

"You'll let me know what you decide to do in the end?"

"You'll know as soon as I do." Frodo knocked the plug of pipeweed from his smoked pipe into the ashes of the fire and rose from his chair. Merry stood up straight, and they kissed briefly before opening the study door, then went out with an arm around each other.

Uncle Merimac was standing in the entrance hall outside. "It's time for luncheon," he told them. "Esmeralda sent me. They can't begin 'til you sit down and head the table, Merry."

"Yes, of course," Merry said. "I can't allow my whole family to go hungry." He dropped his arm from around Frodo's waist and went down the broad main tunnel toward the dining chamber at the heart of the Hall.

Merimac turned to watch him go and, for an instant before Frodo moved to follow, he glimpsed the expression of dislike that crossed his uncle's face.
Chapter 25 by Kathryn Ramage
"Any plans yet, Frodo?" Fatty asked him as he joined the others at lunch. The Master had taken his traditional seat in the rather ornate chair at the head of the dining table and the rest of the family had already started eating. Merimac came in a moment later.

"I have an idea or two, but I honestly don't know if there's anything in them," Frodo answered reluctantly. "It's occurred to me that someone might bear a grudge against Merimas--not because of Celie, but for some other reason." He didn't say what he truly thought, but instead reverted to one of his earlier theories. "For example, there's that- ah- odd rumor we've heard."

"What rumor is that?" Aunt Beryl asked with eagerness; there were few things she enjoyed as much as gossip.

Frodo glanced hesitantly at Celie; if she didn't know, he didn't want to tell her so bluntly as this, especially at the dinner table with the entire family except Ilbie and Estella gathered around.

But Celie said, "It's all right, Frodo." She looked at the others at the table, and explained to those who didn't know what he was referring to, "Frodo's heard a story that Merimas used to go around with some other girl, or girls, before we were married. Dodi told me about it yesterday."

"I thought Celie might know," her brother confirmed.

"And did you?" Frodo asked Celie.

She shook her head. "I wish I had. It'd be something to throw back at him when he started in about me and Berry."

"Wherever did you hear such a tale?" Melisaunte asked in amazement.

"From Eliduc," said Frodo. "He wouldn't say where he heard it from, nor can I find anyone else who can tell me whether or not it's true."

"Of course it isn't true," Melisaunte answered. "I would have known if my son were keeping company with anyone."

"Surely we all would have known," added Hilda.

"I've asked his friends, Gorbulac and others, whom I also believe would know if he had had a girl-friend," said Frodo. "I'm sure Merimas would have told them, and you, if he were courting someone it was respectable for him to associate with. Since nobody seems to know about it except in the form of obscure gossip, or they won't tell me, I have to believe that there was never any such girl..."

"Or else she wasn't respectable for him to associate with!" Pippin finished for him gleefully.

The older ladies looked shocked.

"I'd like to ask Eliduc more about it--or rather, somebody else ought to go and ask in my place, since he and his brother are on guard against me now that they know they're on my list of suspects." This line of inquiry must be followed up in any case. "Pippin, will you do it? I'll go into Bucklebury with you, to poke around elsewhere, but Eliduc likes you. He might talk to you. There may be nothing in his story except mischief, but if there is a cast-off lover or jealous husband or sweetheart lurking, I'd like to know who it is."

Pippin cheerfully agreed to Frodo's request.

"And what can the rest of us do?" asked Dodi.

"For the moment, stay here," Frodo told him. "I know you want to help, Dodi--you all do--but right now, there isn't much to be done. The fewer of us wandering about, the better. Pip's all right--he's armed and can look after himself. I have a job for you too, Sam, one only you can do."

Frodo did not explain this special errand until after he and Sam had left the Hall and were walking along the back road to Bucklebury, Pippin a tactful distance ahead of them. "It's something none of my relatives can do," he told Sam, who had been brooding and thoughtful over lunch and had only spoken when asked a direct question. "You're an outsider to Buckland. You've only been here twice before for short visits and aren't known to the local folk. They might speak more freely to you than they would to me or one of the Brandybuck family, or someone who's known to be connected to us."

"You mean, I'm to pick up gossip and see if anybody has a tale to tell about how the Brandybucks did wrong to 'em?" Sam had done something like this before, in Tuckborough.

"Yes, precisely. Gather whatever stories you can, but see if they have anything special to say about my cousin Berry and that old business. I think you'd be more successful in Newbury, where the common folk are likely to congregate. You weren't wearing your shirriff's cap when you called on Chief Muggeredge yesterday, were you?"

"No, I had it in my pocket," Sam answered. "I didn't want to announce myself official-like, since I didn't know I was going to be official."

"And you've left it at the cottage today?"

Sam nodded.

"Excellent! There's nothing to give you away. Do you know where the High Hay tavern is in Newbury? Just across the green from the sherriffs' hall. Go there, and into the other pubs in town, but mind you don't get so tipsy you can't tell me what stories you hear."

"And where'll you be?" Sam asked him.

"In Bucklebury with Pippin. Well, not with Pippin. There are other people in town I want to call upon."

Sam looked doubtful about this proposed plan. "I'm meant to keep an eye on you, Frodo."

"I'll be all right in Bucklebury in the middle of the day," Frodo assured him. "Pippin will be my bodyguard 'til we get there. Won't you, Pip?"

"My sword is at your service, Frodo! I'll defend you with my life if it comes to it," Pippin answered flippantly without turning to look back, giving away the fact that he was listening to their conversation.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to it!" Frodo turned back to Sam and placed a hand on his arm. "Pippin and I will return to the Hall together when we've finished our errands. Come and join us there when you're done, Sam, and we'll talk over whatever we've learned, if we've learned anything at all."

Sam still looked doubtful, but he accepted that Frodo would be safe enough this afternoon. "How do I get to Newbury from here without going back to the main road or up and around the long way?" he asked.

They stopped walking; Pippin also stopped about ten feet farther along the road to wait for Frodo. "You can cut across here," Frodo said, and pointed to the green meadows and ploughed fields beyond the line of trees to their left. "You can't help running into the cottage lane and, from there, you can easily find your way up to the end, past Crickhollow, and take the footpath to Newbury." Since no one was nearby except Pippin, he took Sam by the front of his tweed coat and pulled him close for a good-bye kiss. But, when he let go, he could see that Sam didn't look very happy with this; his expression was quizzical and somewhat disquieted.

"What's wrong?" Frodo asked, and hoped it wouldn't lead to another argument.

"It's that way you kiss," Sam told him. "You did the same to me last night--that thing with your tongue." He opened his mouth slightly and tried to mimic the movement with his own tongue, and made Frodo laugh out loud in spite of himself.

"Didn't you like it, Sam?"

"I didn't say that, only... where'd you learn such tricks? There's other things too." He asked the question Frodo knew he would sooner or later: "It's Master Merry, isn't it? You said he comes to the cottage nearly every day."

"Yes, that's right," Frodo admitted.

"And stops the night?"

"Sometimes."

"There's been talk about you 'n' him even in Hobbiton," said Sam. "People'll say anything about Master Merry, so I didn't know whether to believe or not, 'til I was here to see for myself. It's true, isn't it?"

"Can't we talk about this later, please, Sam? We have work to do."

"We'll talk later," Sam agreed, "but you just answer me now, yes or no. Is it true?"

Frodo sighed. "Yes, then. We are friends, Sam. A little closer than we used to be, that's all."

"You aren't in love with him?"

"I love him dearly. I always have, and you know that very well, but it isn't what I feel for you." Since he couldn't delay the dreaded discussion, Frodo tried to laugh off Sam's jealousy. "I must say, you've taken an odd attitude for a married hobbit with a baby and another on the way! I never fussed about sharing you with Rosie, as long as I had my fair share of your time. You mustn't get angry if Merry and I happened to turn to each other when we were alone together far from home--after all, that's what happened between you and me, isn't it? Merry isn't jealous of you, Sam. He wouldn't have sent you to me last night if he were. He has no objection to my spending time with you as long as you're here."

"Doesn't he mind?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Why should he? We don't belong to each other. It isn't as if we were married or had made any promises to be faithful."

Sam was flabbergasted by this answer. "And won't he mind when you come away with me?"

"We'll talk about that later, Sam," Frodo answered firmly. "Go now and hunt up some gossip in Newbury, and I'll see you at dinner-time at the Hall." He gave Sam another quick peck, no tongue, and sent him on his way.

After Sam had started off across the fields, Frodo joined Pippin, who had been waiting and observing this exchange. "You shocked him," said Pippin.

"Yes, I know. Poor, dear Sam. For all the odd situations I've dragged him into, he's still a conventionally minded hobbit at heart. I feel quite decadent sometimes. Between me, Celie with her boy-friends, Merry and his boy-friends, Berry with all the girls, and whatever poor old Merimas got up to--if he got up to anything at all--it seems that we have the most deplorable moral character of any family in the Shire."

"Worse than the Tooks?" Pippin rejoined. "Well, it's not your fault, Frodo. Nobody who gets involved with Merry goes away unchanged. Rub up against him once, and you're never the same again afterwards."

Frodo laughed, glad that they were talking in this friendly fashion, even joking about Merry, instead of being stuck in the mutually tense and miserable situation they'd been in when Pippin had left them in Bree last summer.

"I thought you were going back to Hobbiton with him," said Pippin. "Are you?"

"I haven't decided yet," Frodo admitted. "Sam wants me to so badly, and part me wants to go too, but I don't believe it's best for me to interfere in Sam's life more than I already have."

"I think you worry too much about what's 'best,'" Pippin answered him with surprising seriousness. "Merry told me it was the best thing for both of us when he broke off with me, and I certainly don't feel any better for it. I was happy with things as they were."

"I'm sorry." Frodo didn't want to hurt Pippin any more than he wanted to hurt Sam. By way of consolation, he offered, "You heard what I told Sam--that goes both ways, Pip. Whether or not I go back with Sam in the end, if you want to spend some time with Merry while you're here, I won't mind in the least."

"That's very kind of you, Frodo," Pippin replied, "but it's Merry who's got to want me. He says he doesn't..." A flicker of the old mischief appeared in his eye. "But I'm doing my best to change his mind."
Chapter 26 by Kathryn Ramage
They parted on the high street in Bucklebury. Pippin went to call on Marleduc and Eliduc at their house, but found they weren't at home.

"The boys went out directly after lunch," their father Emeliadoc informed Pippin apologetically. "You'll most likely find them at the Buckle's Notch. They spend an inordinate amount of time there these days, talking with their friends. I daresay these awful happenings have upset them dreadfully, as they have us all. They're so fond of Ilbie and little Celie, you know. They're out and about at all hours--I scarcely know what they're up to." He smiled. "I wondered if they might be helping Frodo Baggins with his investigation."

When he left Emeliadoc, Pippin went to the Buckle's Notch, and found neither young hobbit there.

Frodo's investigations were of a broader nature. While he was considering Uncle Merry as someone who want to harm members of their family, he must also look at the cadet branch of the Brandybucks. There were dozens of Orgulas's descendants here in Bucklebury and elsewhere in Buckland. Would any of them be so ambitious as to try to eliminate every Brandybuck between him and the Master-ship? It seemed fantastic, but the idea must be explored.

That afternoon, Frodo called on a few of these distant relatives--not because he necessarily suspected any of them, but he wasn't well acquainted with many and wanted a better idea of the people on that branch of the family tree and how they were all connected. By tea-time, he had called on several elderly bachelor gentlehobbits, widows and old maids, not to mention married couples of all ages with children from infants to half-grown boys and girls. He heard quite a lot of family news. Everyone was so sorry about Merimas and pleased to hear that Ilbie was recovering.

He had just left the house of Miss Egella Brandybuck, an elderly lady who lived in one of the smials on the ridge at the top of the hill and knew the genealogy of the entire family from the first Master, when he saw Amarilla Underhaye planting flowers in her front garden a few doors down.

When Amarilla saw him, she smiled and put down her spade. "You look rather tired, Mr. Baggins."

"Investigation is often a tiresome business," he answered. "This is one of those days."

"Then why don't you come in and rest awhile? I was just going to make a pot of tea."

Frodo had already had a cup of tea with Great-aunt Egella, but he accepted the invitation. While the Underhayes weren't relatives, they were also among his list of people to be considered. Amarilla's dislike of Merimas might well be expanded to include other young males of the Brandybuck family. And, at last, he had found a reason to suspect Darco too.

Over tea in the cozy little parlor, Frodo told Amarilla some of what he'd been doing today, although he didn't convey all his thoughts and suspicions. "I hope you can help me with my inquiries," he said.

"I will answer whatever questions you like. I feel it's in my best interests to be honest," she answered frankly, meeting his eyes suddenly over the rim of her teacup before she set it down on the little table between them. "You see, Mr. Baggins, I realize I have reasons to be glad Merimas is gone for Celie's sake, and you suspect me because of that. But I did not strike him, nor Ilbie, and so I have nothing to fear from you."

Frodo couldn't help liking her. During their short acquaintance, he had discovered that he enjoyed talking with her, but all the same, he couldn't help recalling a solemn young herbalist of Minas Tirith he had once also liked and never suspected until it was too late. He supposed he should feel nervous about drinking tea alone with her, but as long as they were drinking from the same pot and he had no milk or sugar, he thought he was safe. After all, this murderer was not a poisoner.

"That's a most sensible attitude to take, Miss Underhaye," he answered as frankly. "I wish more people felt that way. Most of them tend to take it personally, when it's simply an unavoidable part of my work. I don't always like it, but it has to be done if I'm to find the truth."

"Yes, of course. What is it you want to know?"

"When I was here last, you said that Merimas had plenty of reasons to disapprove of you besides your independent style of life. What did you mean? Did he think you were a bad influence on Celie?"

"I'm sure he did, but there was more to it than that. Celie told me about their quarrels. Not all, I suspect, but enough that I was deeply distressed for her. No wife should have to put up with such treatment as she did from him. I told Celie that she and her children could come here and stay with me if Merimas gave her too much trouble. She had other places to go, of course, but they were all on the Brandy Hall property, and she and Merimas wouldn't really be living separately. I wanted to give her a place where she could truly get away from him if she needed it."

"She didn't accept?"

"No. She never spent a night here. I think she was more afraid of being alone--without a husband, I mean, not without the company of family or friends--than of being unhappy with Merimas. All the same, Merimas got wind of my offer. Perhaps Celie herself told him, and he thought I was trying to take her away from him."

"Did he ever speak to you about it?"

"No, but he made it plain I was no longer welcome at their cottage and he tried his best to see that Celie didn't speak to me. But she did. We met at her brother's parties, or she came to call on me here. She wouldn't let him choose her friends for her." Amarilla sounded rather proud of Celie for that.

"I also wanted to ask about your cousin Darco," said Frodo.

She looked very interested. "What did he tell you about me?"

"I didn't speak to him directly," Frodo admitted. "Merry did, and heard Mr. Underhaye's opinions about women in general and you in particular. For all he wanted to marry you, I must say he doesn't sound very fond of you."

"No," Amarilla agreed with a wry little smile. "I believe he once was, but now it's all bitterness. He clings to what he calls love out of pride and stubbornness and a desire to win--as if it were a contest between us! I think he means to frighten me, however he can, into leaving Bucklebury and accepting his protection, but he wouldn't be in the least happy if I did give in. I'd make him as miserable as he'd make me."

"He's suggested that you are in love with Celie."

"Oh, gracious!" Amarilla laughed out loud. "Is that what he's saying? And no doubt that I killed her husband to have her for myself! Darco seems to think that because I dislike the idea of him as a husband, I must despise all males equally. If you've been listening to him, you must think I'm a terrible male-hater."

"I know that's not entirely so," Frodo answered.

"It's not," she confirmed. "There are a number of gentlemen I'm fond of. Your cousin Fredegar Bolger, for example, is pleasant company. He's like you in some ways--intelligent and likes to talk about books. And Dodi and Ilbie are good lads. I don't disapprove of marriage when it's between two people who love each other best in all the world and can't imagine living the rest of their lives apart. I know that that isn't always possible. Some people can't marry the one they love best."

Frodo knew just what, and whom, she was alluding to. "Did Melly tell you that?" he asked. It seemed as if Melly had confided a great deal to her friend, and Frodo wouldn't be surprised to learn that this secret had come out too.

"No, not Melly," Amarilla answered. "There is gossip here in Bucklebury, you know, about you and Master Merry."

"Yes, and elsewhere too, I've heard," said Frodo.

He would have once felt quite shy speaking of this, especially with a lady of relatively slight acquaintance, but he and Merry were talked about. It was an open secret among their family. When he'd been involved with Sam, he'd been at pains to keep the true nature of their relationship a secret for the sake of Sam's reputation more than his own. He would not have his friend subjected to scandal and disgrace because of him. But Merry was already immune to disgrace, and Frodo found he didn't care what people said about him either. His own reputation in this respect meant nothing to him. The whole Shire could know.

"You once told me that your cousin is 'unforgiving' of slights," he resumed his questioning over a second cup of tea. "He bears a grudge against me, because of Val Stillwaters. Is it because you refused to marry him that he won't forgive you?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I have a question for you, Miss Underhaye, and I hope you won't be offended on his behalf."

Amarilla smiled. "Not in the least."

"Could he have taken a grudge against the rest of my family because of my cousin Berry's death?"

She gave the idea serious consideration before she answered, "Darco is certainly capable of feeling such hatred over the death of a friend, but I think that if he were to seek revenge against the surviving Brandybucks, as you're suggesting, he wouldn't strike at Merimas or Ilbie, but the ones he would blame most."

Frodo understood. "The girls: Melly, even Celie."

"And he'd hate Mentha most of all, if he knew the truth." Amarilla glanced up at the portrait of herself over the fireplace. "Mentha was a great painter," she told Frodo. "Her tragedy was that she fell in love with someone who was unworthy of her. For a long time, I believed that she drowned herself in sorrow over Berilac's death, until Melly told me the truth of it." She turned to him. "I can understand why your family has kept it secret, but knowing what really happened has made me see more clearly why my friend did... what she did. It's helped to ease my grief for her."

"I still grieve for Mentha too," Frodo confessed. "I've always thought that if I'd seen the truth sooner, I could have done something to save her. I've had nightmares about that day at the river. I sometimes see her face, the ghastly way she smiled at us, just before she flung herself in. Has Melly told you about that?"

"That she and Master Merry and you were there to see it? Yes. She said you dived into the water after Mentha to try and rescue her, and nearly drowned yourself. I wonder if Darco's opinion of you would be so harsh if he knew."

"He might say I only meant to save her for hanging," Frodo replied, "but I don't believe she would've been. Hanged, I mean. She wasn't herself by then."

"She'd gone mad?"

"She was in great despair, and didn't know what she was doing anymore. I think that our family would've found some way to hush the whole thing up and seen that Mentha was cared for quietly somewhere."

"Kept prisoner, you mean," said Amarilla. "Poor Mentha, Perhaps it's better that it ended as it did."

"I don't believe it has ended yet," Frodo told her. "It's over for Mentha and Berilac. They are at rest, but the story they played a part in is still going on. I can't help feeling that what's happening to the Brandybucks now is connected to them in some way, but I can't quite figure out how."
Chapter 27 by Kathryn Ramage
The Newbury folk did not know Sam, but they were amiable to strangers passing through their town and not only willing, but eager, to talk about the recent tragedy among the "high folk at the Hall." With very little encouragement, they also told him whatever older tales they could recall about the Brandybucks, their peculiarities, and their differences with the townsfolk and other neighboring gentry:

"Now, peculiar they've always been, but this last bunch is oddest. Young Master Merry takes after his lady-mother, and she's a Took, born and bred..."

"There was old Miss Amaranth, who flirted with every lad for miles around. She was worse'n even this Missus Celandine that's causing all the fuss with her husband and brother hit over the head just the same as Mr. Berilac before. Promised to wed six different lads, Miss Amaranth did, and never married a one!"

"...and when her husband heard tell of it, he went to Brandy Hall and said he'd thrash Mr. Berry..."

"Some say 'twas an accident, and t'River do be dangerous indeed in t'deeps, 'tis true. But there's some as says she pushed 'm out t'boat and he pulled her down after 'm..."

"...and Mr. Orgulas, he never spoke to his brother again..."

"Tight-fisted Master Saradoc was with his money, not like Old Master Rory afore 'm. He'd press his farm tenants for every last penny of the rents as if he had more need of the copper coins 'n they did and wouldn't wait a week or two if times was hard. Him, and all the Brandybucks rich as kings! And cold too, Master Saradoc was. Unfeeling. Locked up his own son, who is Master now, and who's as fine a lad as any, though a famous bugger he may be. The old Master's brother, Mr. Merimac, is just the same. Cold."

"...hunting in t'Old Forest, beyond t'Hay, they went. Whether one of 'em shot t'other or they both was got by sommat else in woods, they never come out and weren't seen no more in Buckland..."

"...took t'poor lass out t'River down t'marshes at Withywindle..."

Sam went from the High Hay tavern to the Newbury Inn to the one or two smaller pubs in the town as he'd been directed, buying rounds of ales, listening to this gossip, but his mind wasn't on his work. His thoughts remained on what Frodo had told him about Merry before they'd parted this afternoon, that teasing little flicker of tongue across the roof of his mouth, and the way Frodo had laughed about it. The fact that that kiss was so enticing only made it more disturbing. As Sam turned it all over in his mind, he liked it less and less, and his thoughts grew darker and angrier. He only gave half an ear to the stories the Newbury folk were telling him, and so he nearly missed the important one.
Chapter 28 by Kathryn Ramage
When Frodo left Amarilla's smial, he went down the hill to the Buckle's Notch, where he and Pippin had agreed to meet when they'd finished their respective inquiries. It was still early and there were only a few people within the pub: Darco Underhaye was at the bar, scowling into a half-empty mug of ale, and Pippin was sitting at a table with Marleduc.

"Have you been here all this time, Pippin?" Frodo asked him, half-teasing.

"Actually, I've been all over the place," his Took cousin answered cheerfully. "I ran into Marly in the street just a few minutes ago, and we thought we'd come in and share an ale. We're waiting for his brother, who Marly here say he's expecting to come along any minute, only Eli hasn't shown up yet. Join us, Frodo?"

Frodo took the hint. "No, thank you. I'd only be in the way." Since Marleduc had become wary of him after the assault on Ilbie, Frodo knew that Pippin would have more luck talking to the two brothers if he weren't there.

But Marly said, "Why don't you come have a half-pint with us later, Frodo? We might have a surprise for you when Eli gets here."

This invitation was surprise enough. "What is it?" asked Frodo. "What're you up to?"

Marleduc grinned. "I can't tell you, but I promise once you hear it, you won't suspect us anymore."

Instead of leaving the pub, Frodo retreated to the bar to wait for Eliduc's arrival and the 'surprise.' Darco looked up from his empty mug as the younger hobbit approached. "I'm surprised you're still in Bucklebury, Mr. Underhaye," Frodo ventured into conversation after he'd ordered an ale for himself.

"My business here is finished, but I admit it--I'm staying on in part because I'm curious to see how this investigation of yours turns out," answered Darco. His voice wasn't slurred, but there was a strange emphasis to some of his words and a brightness in his eyes that suggested the ale before him was not his first of the day. "I'd like to see what your prying brings to light this time, Mr. Baggins. Any luck so far? No arrests made yet?"

"No," said Frodo. "I do try to be careful and make no accusation before I'm quite sure I've found the guilty party. I'm still asking questions at this point."

"Asking questions of Amarilla?" Darco shot back. "I saw you go into her house not an hour ago."

"It was a social call," Frodo replied. "She's a friend of my girl-cousins, as you know."

"Not a suspect? Didn't Master Meriadoc tell you what I told him?"

"Yes, he did."

"Then you know that I can't account for my cousin's whereabouts after we parted the evening after the funeral, and I can't say at all where she was when Merimas was killed. Granted, that's no proof of anything, but given what's known of her friendship with the young widow, surely it's enough to make a famous investigator such as yourself a bit suspicious?"

"Yes, it was at first," Frodo answered calmly, "but it's since been proved that Miss Underhaye could have nothing to do with the assault upon my cousin Ilbie. Everyone at the party, even you, is cleared of that suspicion by Ilbie himself."

"Really?" Darco looked interested. "I've heard he's recovered his senses. What did he say?"

Frodo told him about the person Ilbie had seen in the yard of the empty cottage.

"That much relieves me," said Darco, "to know I'm not suspected, nor Amarilla. I was alarmed for her. When you called upon her this afternoon, I was tempted to go in and defend her honor, but Rilla looked so pleased to see you, I hated to interrupt your intimate chat."

Frodo was startled, and somewhat amused, by the jealous tone of Darco's remarks. "Don't be absurd, Mr. Underhaye! Your cousin has no romantic interest in me, and I've no such intentions toward her or any other lady."

"No?" Darco looked doubtful.

"No. Haven't you heard? There's gossip all around town about it. The Master of the Hall and I have more in common than Brandybuck blood."

Darco's eyes widened. "Is it so? Yes, I've heard the gossip, in this very room, but they tell so many tales about young Master Meriadoc and other lads, including those two over there." He nodded and lifted his refilled mug to indicate Pippin and Marly. "I can hardly believe everything that's said about him. But if you say it's true for yourself..." He sipped his ale, then laughed. "Does Rilla know?"

"She's heard the same gossip you have," Frodo answered.

His companion seemed satisfied with these answers, but after what Amarilla had said to him, Frodo doubted that Darco's chances of winning the lady were improved by the absence of a rival. That part of their conversation was none of Darco's business; however, there was another part he wanted to discuss.

"When I called upon Miss Underhaye, we talked about my cousins, Mentha and Berry," he said. "You and Berry were good friends, weren't you?"

"Not 'good friends' in your way, but yes. He used to come up to Top Hay in the north of Buckland, where my family lives, and we'd go to the races or gaming at that little pub by the river together, have a bit of fun with a pretty barmaid or two." Darco took another sip of his ale. "I do miss him. He was a lively lad, if only he weren't so afraid his father and the rest of the Brandybucks would find out about it. It's well known to them now."

"That's all my fault," said Frodo, trying to draw Darco out, "and Melilot's too? If she hadn't told Uncle Saradoc what happened at the river that day, Berry's reputation as a respectable hobbit might remain intact."

"Indeed," Darco agreed. "The lovely Melilot and her rock-throwing talents. Why couldn't she simply slap his face or shove him into the water like any other well-brought-up miss who didn't like to be kissed? Give poor Berry a fighting chance."

"And there's Celie," Frodo prompted.

"What about her?"

"Don't you think she bears some responsibility too? She was the one who liked kissing with Berry."

"No," answered Darco. "That is, not that she didn't like the kissing--Berry used to tell me she did, very much. I meant that he'd gotten over her by then. The last time I saw him, he said it wouldn't be decent of him to go about with a married girl, not to mention another cousin's wife. There was too much possibility for scandal in it. He'd turned his attentions to Miss Mentha for respectability, but there were so many pretty girls at Brandy Hall. Berry always used to tell me about the pretty maidservants you had at the Hall." Darco stopped his reminiscences and gave Frodo a suspicious glance, as if he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. "Why are you asking these questions, Mr. Baggins?"

"Curiosity," answered Frodo.

"I've seen the effects of your curiosity before," Darco retorted, and turned his shoulder to the younger hobbit, effectively ending the conversation.

Frodo finished his ale quietly, then set down the empty mug on the bar and moved away from Darco. Eliduc had not come in yet.

As the afternoon passed into evening, the room began to fill with other hobbits who wanted a pint before dinner, but Eliduc did not come in. Frodo and Pippin waited with Marleduc but as dinner-time drew near, they knew that the Brandybucks would be expecting them back soon and would worry if they weren't prompt. They returned to the Hall, and Marleduc went home in hopes of finding his delinquent brother there.
Chapter 29 by Kathryn Ramage
Sam was already at Brandy Hall ahead of Frodo and Pippin, waiting at the nearest front door. He looked relieved when he first caught sight of the pair coming around the side of the hill.

"Are we late for dinner?" Pippin asked as they came in.

"Not as yet," Sam told him. "Her ladyship's waiting on Master Merry and your uncle, Mr. Merimac. She's been hoping you'd come afore they all sat down."

"Good," said Frodo. "I want a word with Merry." He didn't notice that Sam regarded him more coolly as he went down the hall toward the Master's study.

Merry was not in the study, but Uncle Merimac was seated at the desk, writing something in an account book.

"I beg your pardon--I didn't meant to interrupt your work, Uncle," Frodo apologized as Merimac stopped writing to look up at him. "I was looking for Merry. I thought he'd like to hear of my inquiries in town today." In light of their conversation this morning, he thought that Merry would be pleased to hear that he had turned up nothing of interest.

"Your investigation hasn't been going very well, has it?" said Merimac. "Two young Brandybucks dead or injured in less than a week, and you don't have any idea who might be doing these awful things, do you?"

"No, not yet." Frodo admitted.

The elder hobbit shook his head. "Perhaps this will teach Merry not to push his... favorites forward to interfere in the shirriffs' business."

"I doubt Chief Muggeredge would be any more successful at this point," Frodo responded. "I've 'interfered' in several murder investigations before, and solved every one. The shirriffs are frequently glad to have my interference." The criticism stung, but Frodo realized that it was directed at Merry as much as himself. He also observed that, as Merimac spoke of Merry, that same expression of dislike he'd spied this morning reappeared. "You still don't like him, do you, Uncle?"

"Like who?"

"Merry. You never approved of him when we were boys. You thought he was wayward and irresponsible, and you think so still."

"My private opinion of my namesake is unimportant," the elder hobbit answered rather stiffly. "Whether I am fond of him or not, Saradoc would want me to ensure that his son made a proper Master of the Hall, and I've done my best."

"Merry is very grateful for your assistance. He's told me so, many times." While it was all the more admirable that Uncle Merry would do this duty while disliking Merry so, it was also rather chilling. Frodo wondered if Merry guessed how his uncle truly felt. "I'm know he hopes you think better of him now that he's grown up and become more responsible."

"There hasn't been another public scandal," Merimac conceded, "not from Merry at any rate, but I don't believe he's changed his ways from when he was a reckless boy with no thought for his anything but his own pleasures. He's only become more discreet. It was always one boy or another. Now I understand that it's you, Frodo." He regarded Frodo with distaste. "Who next, I wonder? Peregrin Took is back again. My Berry never behaved half as disgracefully with the house-maids, nor even Melilot or Mentha or that flirtatious boy-mad chit of Hilda's, but he's dishonored in memory, while Merry got away with far worse... and still does." Merimac resumed writing, but he was angry and pressed too hard on the quill, causing the ink to spatter on the page. He quickly reached for a blotter. "To see him and all you silly young clods going about laughing, while Berry lies in the vault seems to me to be a great injustice. He was worth the lot of you together. At least, if Berry misbehaved, he did so according to nature."

While he wished to be sensitive to his uncle's grief, this was more than Frodo was willing to put up with. "Merry never forced his attentions on anyone who wasn't willing, or at least a little curious," he replied. "Berry included."

Merimac stared at him, expression darkening.

"You knew about that, didn't you, Uncle Merry? Merry was sure that Berry told you."

"He told me," Merimac confirmed tersely after a moment. "And if I doubted that Merry was a corrupting influence before then, I never doubted it afterwards. If you don't mind, I'd like to finish this work before dinner." He dipped his quill and began to write again, indicating that he didn't wish to discuss this any more.

As Frodo went out, a new and horrible theory began to form in his mind. When he'd first wondered who could bear a grudge against the Brandybucks, he'd been thinking of cadet members of the family or someone who had only come peripherally into his investigation thus far, like Darco Underhaye--but now he wondered if he ought to look closer to home.
Chapter 30 by Kathryn Ramage
Everyone was eager to hear if Frodo's and Pippin's inquiries had turned up anything interesting, but both reported, "No, nothing." Pippin had little to tell, and Frodo couldn't tell them what he'd thinking since he'd spoken to Merimac, not even if his uncle weren't seated at the same table! They would call it madness. It was too terrible an idea to be true.

Could it be true?

Very little that Uncle Merry had said came as a surprise to Frodo, but the intensity of his feelings were disturbing. Uncle Merry had been in a dark gloom since Merimas's death; he'd never really recovered from the death of his own son. Had his mind turned with grief? His dislike of Merry had obviously increased since Berilac's death and, more than that, he seemed to resent not only Merry, but all the young males of the family for living while his son had died. Merimas and Ilberic had both been hit in the head much in the same way that Berilac had. And if anything happened to Merry, his uncle was next in line.

Or perhaps Uncle Merry didn't care about the Master-ship. He had no heir. Was it revenge alone he was after?

Could he have left the Hall unobserved on the night Merimas was killed? Frodo knew from his own childhood mischiefs how easy it was to climb out a bedroom window onto the slopes of Buck Hill; even a hobbit of Uncle Merry's age could manage it. Or Uncle Merry could simply have gone out the garden door after the rest of the household was asleep and his absence wouldn't be noticed.

But if Uncle Merry had gone out that night to murder Merimas, how had he known where to find him? Had they agreed to meet by the Hedge? How and when--and why?--had they made such arrangements? Even if he sought some sort of revenge, why kill Merimas first? Uncle Merry had always approved of him. Of all the Brandybuck youths, Merimas was the most like Berry had appeared to his father's eyes: a sober and respectable, no-nonsense hobbit-lad. If Uncle Merry wanted to strike down young Brandybucks, why not begin with Merry? He had reasons, however unjust, for despising his nephew. Did Merimac's rigid sense of duty keep him from harming his nephew in spite of his feelings?

Did Uncle Merry have some reason to blame Merimas for Berry's death? When investigating Berry's murder, Frodo had had a tenuous suspicion that Merimas was lying to protect his sisters, but this had never been confirmed. Had Uncle Merry held the same suspicions? Was that enough to draw his ire? Might he try to harm Melly next?

What about Ilbie? After Merimas's funeral, could Uncle Merry have gone to Ivysmial to spy out what the young hobbits were up to? Frodo knew that his uncle had gone to Brandy Hall to help receive guests, and had been with Emeliadoc and Gorbulac when they'd seen Marly escorting Celie home. It didn't seem as if there was enough time, but the Bucklebury road curved around behind the Hall grounds, and it would only require a short walk from the garden gate across the fields to Ivysmial once the others had gone away. Uncle Merry hadn't been cloaked or hatted at the funeral, but an old jacket, cloak, or hat might be picked up anywhere that working hobbits were about--a gardeners' shed, the boathouse, the stables, or even Uncle Dino's cottage--to be worn as a disguise. Frodo had seen that trick before.

As the family left the dining room, Frodo walked with Esmeralda and the other ladies. "I hope you don't think it's odd if I ask you, Aunt Esme. Uncles Em and Gorbulac were here after the funeral, weren't they? With Uncle Merry." It wasn't Emeliadoc's and Gorbulac's whereabouts that concerned him, but it was better the aunties think so.

"Yes, that's right," Esmeralda confirmed. "They didn't sit long with us, but availed themselves of Merry's study and the wine there. All three have been very distressed by Merimas's death, poor dears, and I think Merimac welcomed the company of gentlemen near his own age. He misses Saradoc so."

"Surely you don't suspect them?" asked Hilda.

"No, Aunt," Frodo answered, "but I must ask after everyone."

"It seems dreadfully unfair to me," said Beryl. "I don't see how a respectable hobbit could be concerned in these brutal attacks. You ought to be looking for strangers, Frodo, ruffians or mad-hobbits, and the sherriffs ought to lock them all up!"

"Uncle Merry saw them out by the garden gate," Frodo pursued. "Was he gone long?"

"I sure I couldn't say, dear." Esmeralda gave him a curious look, as if she guessed the real purpose behind his questions. "I didn't make note of when he returned, only that it was near dark, and before you children came in, bearing poor Ilbie."

It was a close scrape, but if Merimac had hastened there and back, it was just barely possible that he might have been at the empty cottage to strike Ilbie. He couldn't have been there long, and must have fled just afterwards--he couldn't therefore have been lurking long enough for Dioica Marishe to glimpse him during the party itself, for she and Dodi's other guests would be on their ways home. Her claims of sensing danger were most likely flights of over-active imagination.

Perhaps his imagination was flying as wildly. It might all be true, but there was still much that needed to be puzzled out before it all made sense.

After leaving the ladies in the drawing room, Frodo went to the Master's study to join the other hobbit-youths. Out of respect, Sam hadn't repeated the stories he'd heard in Newbury while the ladies were present, but once the young gentlemen had gathered for their post-prandial pipe-smoking, they'd prompted him to tell a few of the more salacious bits of gossip.

These scandalous pieces of family history were well known to the Brandybuck youths; the only thing that seemed relevant to Frodo in the present circumstances was Uncle Merimac being described as "cold." However, as Sam spoke, Frodo began to feel that his friend had something else that upset him on his mind. He'd been so lost in his own thoughts since he'd spoken to Uncle Merry that it was some time before he noticed how Sam avoided looking at him; when their eyes did inadvertently meet, Sam gave him a strange, pained and searching look.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Frodo asked after they'd left Brandy Hall and were walking up the lane toward Crickhollow. "Something is troubling you. Is it some story you heard today and didn't want the others to know about?"

"It's something I heard today, but I couldn't say in front of all them folk," Sam answered. "It wasn't for them to hear. It's between you 'n' me."

"Oh." Frodo understood. "You aren't still angry about that, are you? I wish you wouldn't be so jealous of Merry, Sam." As they went in through the gate and up to the cottage, he took Sam's arm, but had to let go again to unlock the front door. Once they were inside, he tried to give Sam a kiss, but Sam was unresponsive. "You are angry. It's ridiculous. I never reproached you about Rosie."

"That's different," answered Sam, "and you know it is."

"Different, how?" Frodo went into the kitchen. He didn't want to start an argument, but he was beginning to be angry himself with Sam's sullen attitude. They had hardly seen each other in a year; this reunion should be joyous for them both instead of filled with quarrels. "I don't see why you have to make such a fuss, and spoil the time we have together by going on about Merry," he said as he filled the tea kettle to make some chamomile tea before bed. "Why can't we be happy while you're here? You'll be staying to see me through my bad day. You said you would."

"I'll stay as long as you like," Sam said, "but no matter how long it is, 'tisn't enough."

"I know--you'd like me to come home." Frodo crouched down on the hearth to stir up the kitchen fire, which Milli had banked into embers before leaving that morning. "Very well. I'll come to Bag End. I'll stay a month or more, and you can help me with my book. I'll visit more often after that too."

"I don't want you to come for visits," Sam responded. "Bag End's your home. It's where you belong."

"It's your home now, Sam--yours and Rosie's and the children. Brandy Hall is as much my home as Bag End. I was born here. I spent all my childhood among the Brandybucks. This is my family-"

Sam snorted angrily. "You think I don't see what's keeping you here?"

Frodo sighed and sat back on his heels to look up at his friend, who stood over him. "I've tried to explain-"

"Oh, you've done some explaining, all right!" Sam exploded. "I expect you could get 'round anybody if you talked long enough--you're that clever. Talk all you like, but it don't change the fact: You won't come home because you don't want to. 'Tis plain enough to see. You'd rather stay here with him."

"Sam, please-"

But all the jealous and angry thoughts Sam had been nursing in his head throughout the afternoon were bursting forth. "You said you and Master Merry started off after you went away after 'm to Gondor."

"Yes, that's so," Frodo answered, not liking what Sam was driving at.

"Then you was already with him when you came home last autumn. Why didn't you tell me about it then, 'stead of saying you was going to stay with your family at the Hall awhile? You said you wanted to be by Master Merry while he was having a hard time after his father died--you never said a word about bedding with 'm!"

"I meant to Sam," Frodo confessed. "I did. All along the road home, I planned what I would say, but once I saw you, I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear to hurt you."

Sam looked doubtful about this. "You used to tell me there was never nothing between you 'n' him."

"There wasn't," Frodo insisted. "Not then."

"So you said, and I always used to believe you." Sam looked achingly sad at the thought. "I believed whatever you said. You tell me the truth of it, Frodo, and I'll believe you now. You've no reason to lie, as it's what I'm thinking anyway. Did you push me off to marry Rose so you could be rid of me 'n' be with Merry Brandybuck?"

"Sam! No!" Frodo had been able to laugh off Sam's jealousy earlier in the day, but this accusation was beyond a joke. He was appalled at how his motives had been misconstrued. Sam's trust in him must be deeply shaken even to imagine such a betrayal. "No, Sam--it wasn't like that at all. I would never have 'pushed you off'-"

"Then why did you?"

A sudden knock on the door cut off any reply; someone was banging frantically, as if they would break in the door rather than wait for it be opened. When he heard Pippin's voice shout, "Frodo! Let me in!" Frodo leapt up and dashed to answer it.

Pippin stood on the doorstep, flushed and breathless as if he'd run all the way from Brandy Hall, and he clutched the hilt of his dagger as if he expected to use it.

"What is it?" asked Frodo. A cold, sick feeling of dread coursed through him, wiping away all personal considerations. "What's happened? Who-?"

"It's Eliduc," Pippin announced, still short of breath. "He's been found, dead."

"Oh, Pippin, not another one," Frodo groaned. "Struck over the head?"

"No, he was stabbed in the throat. They found him near the Pogses Farm."

"Where I was walking yesterday..." Frodo felt another sickening chill run through him. Eliduc had been missing since the afternoon. It must have been broad daylight when he'd been killed. He thought he'd been safe in that same place, but no one was safe anywhere anymore.

"Merry's gone with Uncle Em and Marly to the shirriffs' hall, where they've taken Eli," said Pippin. "He wants you to join him there."

"Yes, right away." Frodo turned to get his coat, and found that Sam had come up behind him and was at his elbow; he had already had taken Frodo's coat down from its peg on the wall and was ready to help him put it on. In spite of their quarrel, Sam wasn't about to let Frodo go out on a chilly spring night without dressing warmly.
Chapter 31 by Kathryn Ramage
"We knew that something was amiss when he didn't come home for dinner," said Emeliadoc, who stood beside a table in the long hall of the guardhouse in Newbury--the same table Merimas had been laid out on a week before--and gazed down at the body of his younger son. Marly stood beside his father with tears rolling down his face. A piece of cloth had been placed over the wound in Eliduc's throat, but the dark red of the dried blood showed through the thin white cloth and there were stains of blood down the front of his shirt and coat. "If the boys are off with their friends and going to be late, or stopping for dinner elsewhere, they'll let us know in good time. His mother was worried. After Merimas and Ilbie, she's been afraid that something terrible would happen to one of our boys too. I feared there'd been some mischief tonight, but I never imagined..."

"Where is Aunt Sirabella?" asked Frodo. "She didn't come with you?" He had seen no lady seated on the bench outside when he'd come in with Pippin and Sam, nor was she in the room.

"No," Emeliadoc answered. "She swooned when she heard the news. Great-aunt Agapantha from next door is sitting by her while we're here. I had to come and verify that it was really Eli, but there's no reason she should have to see him like this." He turned to Frodo. "What is happening? Who would do such a thing to our son?"

He sounded as if he were expecting an answer, but Frodo had no answer to give. "I'm so terribly sorry, Uncle," he said, and meant it. He should have prevented this somehow. He should have found the murderer long before this, but Eliduc's death left him more lost than ever. "Do you know what took him to that path? Was he visiting the Pogses, or some other farm-folk down that way?"

What other farms lay on the eastern border of Buckland? Where did the cart track go? Since Frodo had been on the same road himself, he knew that that the northern end met the Hedge lane outside Newbury and led into town. And to the south..? He would have to find out.

Emeliadoc shook his head. "I didn't know he'd gone outside of Bucklebury." Marleduc said nothing.

"Then how was he discovered there? Who found him?"

"It was one of Old Pogs' daughters," Chief Muggeredge told Frodo. "The cows usually bring themselves back to the barn when it starts getting dark, but there was one or two stragglers today, so she went out to the far pasture to bring 'em in. She found Mr. Eliduc there, in the cart track that runs along beside, and when she saw that he was dead, she came running here to fetch the shirriff. As I didn't know if you were at Brandy Hall or not, Mr. Baggins, I sent to Master Merry."

"And I sent Pippin to you while I went to Uncle Em's," added Merry. He too now carried his elven dagger in his belt.

"How did you know it was Eliduc? Did Miss Pogs recognize him?"

"No, 'twas me," said Muggeredge. "I knew when I saw him that it was one of Mr. Emeliadoc's lads."

"And when the shirriff came, I said that Marly was fine when I last saw him, but we'd been waiting for Eli this afternoon and he never showed up," said Pippin. "So we knew it had to be him."

"You said that his throat was cut," said Frodo, and glanced at the dark stains on the dead young hobbit's clothes.

"Not cut so much as stabbed, Mr. Baggins. Here-" Chief Muggeredge stepped up to the opposite side of the table and tugged aside the cloth laid over the wound. Emeliadoc turned away quickly and walked out the front door. Marleduc followed his father. "Here, you see," the Chief Sherriff went on. "That doesn't look like a cut you'd get from a knife. 'Twasn't anything so sharp as that, and there's dirt in that cut that never got there when the poor lad fell a-dying. My guess is that it was on the blade he was struck with."

Frodo leaned closer to examine the wound and verify that there was indeed a lot of dirt in and around it, although he felt a little nauseated as he did so. In spite of all the murder victims he had viewed, he'd never become accustomed to the sight of gore. "A spade or trowel, do you think?"

"Could even be the edge of a shovel. Plenty o' such things about a farm, or anybody's garden," the Chief confirmed.

While Sam, who knew his gardening tools, came forward to and see if he could identify the weapon from the shape of the cut, and Merry made arrangements with the shirriffs regarding Eliduc's body, Frodo went outside for a breath of air. The long hall suddenly seemed rather stifling. Emeliadoc was sitting on the bench by the door, and Marleduc paced; the younger hobbit looked toward the High Hay across the green once or twice, but he did not go far from his father. A number of local hobbits stood outside the tavern, staring at them and murmuring.

Frodo approached Marleduc. "You knew where your brother was today, didn't you, Marly?" he asked in an undertone.

"I didn't know!" Marleduc hissed back. "Not 'til Merry came and told us where he'd been found."

"Didn't he tell you who he was going to see?" Frodo pressed. "Marly, your brother's been murdered-"

"Don't you think I realize that? I've seen him! I'll see him, the way he looks in there, when I try to sleep tonight, every time I shut my eyes."

"Here," Emeliadoc couldn't hear what they were whispering, but he could see their expressions and hear the vehemence in his son's voice. "Frodo, what're you saying? You don't think Marly has anything to do with this, do you? How could you imagine such a thing?"

"Oh, Frodo's practically accused me of murder before," said Marly. "Merimas and Ilbie, so why not Eli too?"

"I'm not accusing you," Frodo responded, "but I think you know more about Eli's whereabouts today than you've said. What was this 'surprise' you told us about? Pippin?" He appealed to his cousin, since both Pippin and Sam had also come outdoors, hearing raised voices.

"You did say so, Marly," Pippin confirmed. "You told Frodo that when Eli showed up-"

"But he never did!" cried Marly. "He was probably already dead by that time!"

"Boys, please!" said Emeliadoc. "Why must you discuss this now? Haven't we endured enough?"

"You've had more than enough to bear, Uncle Em," said Merry as he joined the group at the guardhouse door and put a comforting hand on Emeliadoc's arm. "It's all right. You and Marly needn't stay any longer. You've done what you had to. I'll take care of whatever other arrangements are necessary, and see that Eliduc is brought to you tomorrow to be laid out properly. You'll have much to do then."

"There'll have to be another funeral," Emeliadoc said desolately, and rose from his seat on the bench.

"Sherriff Treadel here will escort you home," Merry offered, but the shirriff on duty balked nervously at the prospect of walking to Bucklebury and back in the dark with a murderer about. "Will you go with them, Pip?" he quickly amended his offer.

After Pippin had escorted Emeliadoc and his son away, Frodo told Merry, "Marly does know what his brother was doing today--I'm sure of it."

"I believe you, Frodo, but he and Uncle Em were too upset to be questioned tonight. You can't possibly think Marly killed his own brother?"

"No," said Frodo. "He said they had a surprise that would make me stop suspecting them--but I can't think that this was what they had planned!"

"Then Marly can wait to tell you what he knows." Merry turned to Frodo. "You won't come back to the Hall and spend the night? I know you've got Sam to keep watch over you, but you both might be safer at Brandy Hall."

Sam had been standing by the doorway all this time; Frodo was aware that his friend was watching him and Merry closely.

"No, thank you," he refused the offer. "We'll be all right."

They remained a little while longer. After Merry had finished giving instructions to the shirriffs and gone on his way, Frodo told the Chief Sherriff what Ilbie had told him that morning. Vague as it was, Ilbie's glimpse of the person he'd seen in the garden of the empty cottage was the only description they had of the murderer. He also made arrangements to view the place where Eliduc had been found the next morning.

He and Sam walked silently back to Crickhollow. The hour was late, past Frodo's usual bed-time; he was very tired, but too distressed to think of sleeping. Like Marleduc, he knew he would see Eliduc's dead face whenever he closed his eyes. When they entered the cottage, Frodo went into the sitting room and sank down in one of the chairs before the dark and cold fireplace.

Sam locked and barred the front door and hung up his coat, then went to the sitting-room doorway. "This Eliduc," he said softly after regarding Frodo's slumped figure for a minute. "Was he a close kin to you?"

"No, not close," answered Frodo, lifting his head from his hands. "I've known him and his brother Marly since they were small boys. They used to come to the Hall to play with Dodi and Ilbie, but I've seen little of them since I went away to Bag End." He turned to look over his shoulder, and found that Sam had come closer to stand behind his chair. "I should have known that something was going to happen when he didn't show up this afternoon at the Notch, Sam. He and Marly were up to something. You heard what I told Merry: Marly said they would have a surprise for me when Eliduc arrived... only Eliduc never came."

"What d'you think they were up to?"

"I don't know. Whatever it was, I'm sure it's the reason why Eliduc was killed. If Marly knows about it, he may be next."

One thing was clear to Frodo: Uncle Merry couldn't have done this; he hadn't left Brandy Hall today. There must be someone else involved. Who? Was it an independent agent, or were they working together? It had been dark on the Newbury green, but Frodo thought he'd seen Ted Todbrush among the crowd before the tavern--by coincidence, or was his presence tonight a sign of something more sinister? The High Hay was the Todbrushes' usual haunt, but Ted had been talking with Eliduc, and now Eliduc was dead...

"Mr. Pippin's seen 'em safely home," Sam told him, "and we'll go over to Bucklebury tomorrow and you can ask him private-like, so his Dad won't get upset." He put a hand on Frodo's shoulder. "It's too late tonight for more investigating. You ought to be abed. You need your rest."

"Yes, Sam," Frodo agreed wearily, and let his cheek rest on the back of his friend's hand. He understood that Sam was trying to set aside his jealousy and support him in this time of need, as Sam had always done, and he was grateful for it. He let Sam help him to his feet, and leaned on his friend as they went into the bedroom.

As Frodo undressed and put on his nightshirt, Sam stood hesitantly in the doorway. "If you'd rather," he said, "I can make up a bed for myself on the sofa quick enough and let you be."

"No, Sam. I don't want to be alone." Frodo was too sick and stunned by this latest murder to have any romantic feelings right now, but it would be a great comfort to have Sam nearby during the night. As he sat down on the bed, he looked up at Sam with eyes wide in appeal. "That is, if you want to be with me."

"You know I do," Sam answered, then added, "You could've gone to stay with Master Merry tonight."

"I didn't want to go," said Frodo. "I'd rather be here." He held out a hand, and when Sam came to him, they clung to each other.
Chapter 32 by Kathryn Ramage
Even with Sam holding him, Frodo did not fall asleep for some time. He dozed at last in the early hours of the morning and, when he opened his eyes, daylight was visible through the slats of the window-shutters. Sam had gone. Frodo rose and pulled on his dressing gown, then went out to find Sam in the kitchen, making up the fire.

"I was going to have breakfast nice 'n' ready for you when you got up," Sam said, "only I've had a look in the larder and there isn't much to make breakfast from. No eggs, no bacon, and a bit of bread that's gone stale."

"Milli will bring fresh food when she comes to make breakfast," Frodo answered. "Why don't you get us some tea while we're waiting for her? I can use a good, strong cup to wake me up properly."

"I was just about to. The kettle's already filled." He glanced up at Frodo apologetically. "You left it sitting on the floor last night." It was, in fact, still on the hearthstones beside Sam.

"Yes, well, we left the cottage rather abruptly. It's a good thing I didn't leave it on the fire, else the kettle would've burned out once the water boiled away and we would have come back to a worse mess than the one that was- ah-interrupted." Frodo took a seat at the table. "I don't want to quarrel with you, Sam, but you must understand. What you said last night--You've got it wrong. I didn't push you off onto Rose to get rid of you, and I didn't take up with Merry until after I'd made a very hard decision to let you go. He doesn't have any part in it. I would've come to the same decision if Merry hadn't been there."

Sam gaped up at him. "You were going to give me up anyway?"

Frodo nodded.

"Why? Was it something I did wrong? I did as you wanted. I even married Rosie 'cause you wanted me to."

"Yes, that is what I wanted for you, Sam. You didn't do anything wrong," Frodo hastened to assure him. "You've been wonderful, but while I was away, I realized that it was better if I left you to get on with your own life, the life you should have had, without me. I did it for your sake."

"For my sake?" Sam repeated incredulously.

"I wouldn't have given you up if I thought I'd always be able to keep you for myself. Please, believe that, Sam. But I knew from the first that that wasn't possible. I could only be with you for a short time, and I had to give some thought to what would happen to you afterwards." Frodo could see that Sam didn't know what he was talking about--or refused to see--and his doubts and suspicions were beginning to resurface. He didn't want to be brutal, but it was important that Sam understand why he'd made this choice, and not go on thinking that it was something worse. "I won't be here much longer, Sam. I am ill. The Ring-"

"But you're much better!" Sam protested. "You're getting well again. I can see it!"

"No, Sam. My pain has been lessened, but it won't ever entirely go away," Frodo tried to explain the hard fact of the matter. "The Queen's gift has given me a little more time, not all the time in the world. I can't expect a normal hobbit's span of life, only a few years more than I would have otherwise. I've been given a chance to go away with the Elves and be healed when the pain becomes too great to bear. I was dying, Sam. If it hadn't been for Queen Arwen, I might've died in this year or the next. I could never tell you before. I tried to, but you grew so upset whenever I spoke of it. You never wanted to hear the truth about how ill I really was."

Sam looked guilt-stricken, as if Frodo were reproaching him. "You could tell Merry, couldn't you?" he asked.

"Never mind about Merry."

"But he'd listen?"

Frodo reluctantly acknowledged that this was so. Merry had been the first person he'd confided in.

This information seemed to distress Sam more than anything else Frodo had said that morning. He gulped hard and tears glistened in his eyes, then he turned away to poke at the kitchen fire and feed it more wood. After a moment, he turned back to look at Frodo and braced himself. "I'll listen now," he announced, "if you want to tell me."

Frodo told him. He explained why he had encouraged Sam's courtship and marriage to Rose, and how he'd talked to her, to ensure that Sam wouldn't be left alone after his death. He told Sam how he'd gazed into the palantir that the King kept in the White Tower in Minas Tirith and seen Sam happy with his new family. That glimpse had made Frodo regret his choice, but now that it was done, he'd determined that the best thing to do was leave Sam to the home he'd given him with Rose and the baby, stay away from Bag End and stay out of their lives. He explained the price of Queen Arwen's gift: he would be healed in the Undying Lands, but once he left Middle-earth, he could never return.

By this time, Sam had moved from the hearth to sit at Frodo's feet; his head was on Frodo's knee and he had wrapped both arms around his calves. As he listened, he wept and his embrace around Frodo's legs tightened, but he didn't try to stop Frodo from talking. He had promised to listen, and he meant to hear all the worst.

"You see now, don't you?" Frodo concluded, stroking Sam's curls to try and comfort him. "I thought it'd be easier for both of us if we were already separated when the time came for me to leave. You have a wonderful life without me, and there's so much you can be and do. When I am gone, you'll have a wife, a daughter you adore, and there'll be more children too. They'll sustain you. I can give you that."

"But it isn't you," Sam sobbed into his lap. "Nothing'll ever take the place of you."

"I know, Sam, but one way or another I must leave you eventually. That can't be avoided, and you'll have to go on without me."

"If-" Sam choked on the next words. It was some time before he could make himself say it. "If you don't have much time left, then I want you near me for all that time--where I can see you, touch you, and hold on tight and know you're right with me, not miles away! If I have to get on without you, let's have it be later, not now while you're still here. I'll see you through your last days, and we'll make the best of every one o' them." He lifted his head and looked up at Frodo with a teary but hopeful expression. "We almost met with our deaths together once, Frodo. Remember? I thought that was the end for us, but it wasn't. We had some time after that, wonderful days. All that comes after is extra time."

Frodo had meant to soften the blow of his inevitable leaving and make it easier for Sam, but he saw that he'd only made it more painful. Perhaps Sam was right: they ought to make the most of the time that was left to them.

"All right," he said softly, and leaned down to kiss Sam's brow. "Don't cry anymore, my love. I'll do as you want--I'll come home to Bag End with you, as soon as this investigation is finished."

They remained as they were, sitting and holding each other tightly, until Milli arrived and had to bang on the barred door to be let in.
Chapter 33 by Kathryn Ramage
After breakfast, they walked over to the cart track that wound past the Pogs farm. Chief Muggeredge had again called on all off-duty shirriffs to find the murder weapon, and Frodo and Sam met several along the way as they searched the sides of the road as well as the farm property and outbuildings. One of the shirriffs left off his search in the underbrush and showed them the place where Eliduc had been killed.

There was little to see on the spot except for a puddle of dried blood collected in a wheel rut on the side of the road nearest to the stone wall that bounded the cow pasture. On the other side of the road ran a ragged hedge with plenty of gaps where someone might hide and wait to attack an unwary passer-by, but when Frodo examined these gaps, he found no sign that Eliduc's murderer had actually hidden in any of them. For all he knew, Eliduc and his murderer had walked this way together. The road itself was too hard and dry to show noteworthy footprints and tell just what had happened; however, Frodo noted that this hard-packed, gray dirt was different from the richer and darker soil that had been found in the wound on Eliduc's neck, and presumably on the blade of the tool that had killed him.

Next, they went to the farmhouse, where Frodo asked to speak to Petalma Pogs, who had found the body. Miss Pogs repeated the story she'd told Chief Muggeredge the night before: when she had gone out to the pasture to fetch in the stray cows at dusk, she'd seen Eliduc lying in the road and climbed the stile over the stone wall to go to him, thinking he was hurt or sick. He was lying curled on his side, his back to her. It wasn't until she had turned him over to see his cut throat and the pool of blood beneath him that she realized he was dead, certainly murdered.

"I was never so scared afore in all my life," she told Frodo. "On a farm, 'tis nothing to see cows and pigs in such a state, but I never saw another hobbit cut like that! I was sure as the one who did it was still hanging about and he'd get me next!" But she'd seen no one on her way out to the pasture, nor as she had run to Newbury afterwards.

After thanking Miss Poggs, Sam and Frodo went into Bucklebury to call on Marleduc. The young hobbit was home alone; his parents had gone out to make the necessary funeral arrangements. The Bucklebury Brandybucks had their own family vault atop the hill, and a visit to the elderly uncle currently considered the head of that branch of the family was required to have it opened.

"They'll be back soon if you've come to pay a condolence call," Marleduc said when he answered the door. "Or have you come to pursue last night's accusations, Frodo?" He looked over Frodo's shoulder at Sam, whom he had seen last night at the guardhouse, but didn't know. "Am I to be arrested?"

"No, you're not," Frodo replied. "My friend Sam is a shirriff, but not in Buckland. He's with me simply as a friend." He lay a hand on Sam's arm. "May we come in, please?"

Marleduc nodded and held open the door to let them inside. They went into the front parlor. "Eli's been laid out in the back parlor if you'd like to view him," he told them. "I know you had a good look last night, but he's been washed up since the shirriffs brought him to us this morning and put into his best suit. We put a white stock around his neck too." He flopped down to sit on the parlor sofa and gestured for his guests to have a seat. "But that's not what you've come for, is it, Frodo?"

"I've come because I want to find Eliduc's murderer--and Merimas's murderer, and the person who attacked Ilbie," Frodo answered as he sat down. "I'm certain it's all the same person, and I'm afraid we are all in danger if he isn't captured before it's too late."

"It's too late to save my brother," Marleduc said bitterly.

Sam bristled at the implied criticism of Frodo, but Frodo himself could only agree; he had felt his own inadequacies since last night. "But it isn't too late for you, Marly," he answered. "Since Eli's been killed, I am afraid for you." He could see that Marleduc looked surprised by this statement, and skeptical. "What were you and your brother up to? If you know who he was going to see yesterday-"

"I don't know anything, Frodo!" Marleduc insisted. "I wish I did. I want to find out who killed Eli even more than you do. Don't you believe that?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Frodo answered. "That's why I'm here, Marly. I need your help. I'm truly sorry that I suspected you when Merimas was killed. It put us on the wrong footing with each other. I saw you were lying about your feelings for Celie-"

"I never said I didn't care for her," Marly said defensively, "only that it made no difference to her if I did."

"I thought that her husband's death must involve her somehow, that it had been done for her sake."

"But you don't think so anymore?"

"No. I think this has nothing to do with Celie or her old boy-friends, including you."

A glint of amusement flickered in Marleduc's eyes. "You can believe I'd kill Merimas, even that I'd hit Ilbie over the head, but not that I'd murder my brother."

"Well, yes," Frodo admitted. "I know how close you were."

"We were." Marleduc agreed.

"If you know anything at all about what your brother was up to yesterday, you may be killed just as he was, to keep the murderer's secrets safe," Frodo told him. "What was he doing out by the Pogs farm? You two were investigating for yourselves, weren't you?" He had turned the matter over in his mind during the restless hours of the night, and this was the only explanation that made sense.

Marleduc nodded. "Eli was. You had your eye so obviously on us after Ilbie was hurt, it seemed in our best interests to prove we had nothing to do with it. We thought it'd be a fine joke if we found Merimas's murderer ahead of you. At least, we wanted to find something that'd set you looking at somebody else instead of us. It was Eli's idea that he ought to find out if there was any truth behind the gossip about old Merimas and his girl-friends. He said he'd heard something interesting after you'd asked him about it, and he was going to find one of the girls Merimas was supposed to be running about with and see what tales she had to tell."

"And did he find one?" asked Frodo.

"He said he did, but he wouldn't tell me her name. When I asked, he laughed and said it would be a surprise--it would surprise you, Frodo."

"Was he going there to meet her?"

"I assume so. He was going to talk to somebody." Marleduc shook his head mournfully. "I should've gone with him. Eli would still be alive."

Emeliadoc and Sirabella returned then. While they expected condolence calls today, they were surprised to see Frodo there; Emeliadoc was especially a little wary after the conversation between Frodo and his son the night before, but the young hobbits seemed to be on better terms today.

After Frodo had introduced Sam and promised to see that Eliduc's murderer was brought to justice, there was a respectful viewing of the body, in accordance with Shire custom, then they left the grieving family.

"So Merimas was courting another girl before Celie," Frodo mused as he and Sam left Bucklebury and were walking toward Brandy Hall. "Eliduc found her. But who could she be?"

Was it Miss Pogs, or one of her sisters? Frodo had only seen the other women-folk at the farmhouse briefly, when they'd gathered in curiosity to have a peek at the visitors before Petalma had shown him into the special company parlor to talk privately; there seemed to be a large number of them, all somewhat plain, sturdy-looking farm-lasses, like Petalma herself, roughly between the ages of thirty and five-and-forty. But while he had been talking with Petalma, Sam and the shirriff had remained with the rest of the family.

He broached the idea to Sam. "What did you think of them?"

"Now, I didn't know your cousin Merimas, and I never saw a-one of those girls before today," Sam answered after giving the question careful consideration. "We only talked for a minute or two, but they seemed nice and respectable enough."

Frodo had to agree with this. "I've never heard anything objectionable about the family. Socially, the Pogs are a step or two below the usual hobbit gentry the Brandybucks choose their wives from, but it wouldn't be a scandal or disgrace if Merimas wanted to marry a well-to-do farmer's daughter. He might've preferred a wife who was practical and hard-working to one who always wanted to go to parties and dance on table-tops."

"If he jilted this other girl for Miss Celie, she might've wanted revenge," said Sam.

"True, but why would she wait 'til three and a half years later?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe he was still seeing her, 'til more recent'n that. I'll tell you one thing, Frodo--if this Eliduc meant to go see one of them Pogs girls at the farm yesterday, he never got there. We asked 'em that, and they said No. And none of 'em went off the farm that day. They don't go out much these days except in groups on their chores, since there's a murderer about."

"But Miss Pogs went out alone last night..." Frodo wondered: Was her errand to fetch the cows an excuse? Had she arranged to meet Eliduc in a place far enough from her home that they would not be seen or overheard? Was she the girl Eliduc had been looking for, and found at last?
Chapter 34 by Kathryn Ramage
Frodo was still contemplating the possibilities of Miss Pogs when they reached Brandy Hall. Before they went in, Sam took his arm and murmured, "You'll tell Master Merry what you said this morning?"

"Yes," Frodo agreed, "I'll tell him." He'd promised Merry he would inform him once he'd made a decision.

"What d'you think he'll say about it?"

"I don't know, but he'll understand."

Even though Merry always said he wouldn't mind if Frodo went back to Bag End, Frodo didn't like the idea of leaving his cousin alone. Merry was the sort of hobbit who needed companionship, and the last thing Frodo wanted was to let him feel abandoned. Perhaps a reconciliation could be arranged between Merry and Pippin before he and Sam went home?

Once they entered the Hall, he told Sam he'd like to have a word with Merry privately, but found that Merry was just going out; the ladies wanted to call on Eliduc's parents to express their sympathies, but were a little frightened of walking into Bucklebury. Merry had agreed to escort them, and Pippin volunteered to go too. There was no opportunity for more than a few brief words before they went out the door.

His other cousins, however, were clamoring for information. After helping with the first part of Frodo's investigation, they now felt left out by sitting at home. Eliduc's death had struck most of them harder than Merimas's had, and frightened them more, but everyone wanted to do something, anything, to help find the person responsible.

Frodo had the gravest suspicion about who was responsible--even if that person had never struck one blow--but he didn't dare speak a name. If he was wrong, it was a hideous accusation to make; if it were true, he had no proof and many unanswered questions. What connection lay between Uncle Merry and those lonely paths where Merimas and Eliduc had met their fate? Who was aiding him? Frodo thought again of Tedro Todbrush lurking and watching, sitting in the Buckle's Notch with Eliduc--but why would Ted lure Eliduc to his death at Uncle's Merry's behest?

If there was a connection, Frodo meant to find it. The answer must lie in Berry's life, if not his death.

Pippin and Merry were out, and Ilbie was still abed in his room with Estella acting as nurse, but otherwise the group of young hobbits gathered in the drawing room that afternoon were the same ones Frodo had assembled to assist him the night before Merimas's funeral. Sam, the only addition, had taken a seat quietly and unobtrusively behind Frodo's.

"I admit I've been mistaken and in a muddle from the beginning," Frodo told the little group. "My suspicions first fell on your friends, Celie. I suspected Marleduc in particular."

"Marly?" Celie echoed. "But I told you that he wasn't in love me. He hasn't a thought of marrying me."

"You're wrong about that, Celie," her brother told her. "Give Marly a little time to work himself up to it, and you'll see."

Celie looked surprised and somewhat doubtful at this information, but as she sank back into her chair, she began to consider it with some seriousness.

"I see now that that was wrong," Frodo continued. "Whatever Marly's feelings, Eliduc's death has put an end to that idea. After Ilbie was injured, I began to look at other possibilities, people who might wish harm to the Brandybucks as a family. I considered the Underhayes."

"But you don't think so now, not about Amarilla?" asked Melly.

Frodo shook his head. "I was at Miss Underhaye's at the time when Eliduc was most likely killed." Of Darco, he was less sure. "No, the more I look into this, the more I feel certain that this has to do with Berry, and the sort of mischief he got up to before he died. I've been reminded of him since the beginning. I had to find a mysterious girl then too. Some of you knew who that girl was, and wouldn't tell me." He looked at the others around him. "Do any of you know who this girl is?"

"I refuse to believe she exists," said Melly. "Merimas may have courted someone before he married Celie, but I'll never believe he carried on with anybody afterwards. It's simply not possible."

"Marly told me that Eliduc had found her," Frodo announced.

This amazing news produced a burst of questions and exclamations of disbelief from his cousins. Was it so? Who could she be? Did Frodo know?

Frodo admitted that he didn't know. "But I believe that's why he was killed--if not by the girl herself, then by someone who doesn't want us to find out about her. I thought this morning that it might be the Miss Pogs who found Eliduc. I wondered if she might have killed him. She was out alone last night, when her sisters are too frightened to go out with a murderer in the neighborhood. She told me she was accustomed to seeing butchered animals."

Fatty nodded sagely. "Anybody who grew up on a farm would be. She'd probably cut a few throats herself too."

"But that's exactly why, when I thought it over, I decided it was unlikely that it could be her or one of her family," said Frodo. "If any of the Pogses planned to cut a hobbit's throat in the same way they'd kill a pig or lamb, they'd know how to do it properly. They'd bring the correct tool for the job--a good, sharp knife, instead of a dirty trowel or spade, and they'd make clean work of it."

Some of the girls shuddered at this cool talk of butchering a hobbit like an animal, and Celie, who had also gone around a bit with Eliduc when they were younger, looked distressed at the thought of it.

"So you mean that a farm-bred lass or lad couldn't have done it?" asked Fatty.

"No..." said Frodo, not thinking of the Pogses, "only that, even if it was such a person, he or she must have acted in haste. That he didn't bring a knife with him tells me so. A garden spade is hardly the sort of thing one would carry around, and certainly wouldn't bring if one were planning to commit a murder well in advance if a better weapon, such as a knife, were at hand. Whoever went out to that cart road past the Pogs farm, whether to meet Eliduc there or to follow and waylay him, had only decided to kill on the spur of a moment. Eliduc had suddenly become a threat, and the killer took up the first likely weapon he could find, just as he used a stone and a stick of wood when he struck at Merimas and Ilbie. The spade may have been stolen from the Pogses' kitchen garden, but I don't believe the killer was from the Pogs farm, or else he or she would've been able to find a better weapon even at a moment's notice.

"The thing that's puzzled me from the beginning is what Merimas was doing out on the Hedge path so late at night. Where was he going? And that cart track lies near it. What took Eliduc there yesterday afternoon? Where does that track go? Do you know it?" He looked around at his assembled cousins for an answer.

"Ilbie and I have ridden out on it a few times, but it's too cut up with wheel ruts to make a good bridle path," said Dodi. "It's meant for farmers to bring their crops and wares into town on market days--there's no other road that runs north and south on that side of Buckland, only the Hedge path, and that isn't wide enough for carts."

"Do the two run parallel?"

"More or less. The cart track winds about a bit, around the farmsteads and pasture-lands, and runs closer to the path in some places than others."

"There're very close up near Newbury, and meet just outside it," said Frodo. "Where is the other end?"

Dodi didn't know. "We never rode so far south. It twists eastward at Standelf, and we never went beyond that. It might go all the way down to Haysend."

"What other farms does it go past, besides the Pogs?"

"The little tenant-farms, mostly." Dodi thought about it. "The Spinneys live down that way, and the Mudwiches, the Todbrushes, the Brambles, the Peases. Merry or Uncle Merry could tell you exactly. They went all around Buckland just after Merry came home--you remember, Frodo, when they were gone for about a week to introduce everybody to the new Master. Uncle Merry might even have a map of the property and which farms lie where. I don't know if that little road will be on it, but it'll give you an idea of who lives in the area."

"Do any of those farmers have daughters of about Merimas's age?" asked Frodo.

Dodi gave the question more thought. "Gerda Spinney's about forty and still with her family, and the Mudwich girls are about the same age, but I think they're both married now. The Peases have four or five daughters, but they're little chits, twenty at most. There's no woman at all on the Todbrush farm since their mother died."

"Do you think Eliduc was going to see a girl who lived on one of the farms?" Fatty asked Frodo. "This supposed unsuitable girl-friend from Merimas's past?"

"Yes, I do," answered Frodo, "and what's more, I think that when we find her, we'll find she has a past connection with Berry as well." He said this last part reluctantly, for it was only a guess. Had there been some sort of rivalry between Berry and Merimas? Had the two once courted the same girl? Or perhaps Merimas had learned something about Berry's carryings-on that his father was desperate to keep secret even now, years after Berry's death. "Darco Underhaye told me that Berry had a new interest after Celie married," said Frodo. "I'm quite sure he wasn't referring to Mentha. I've wondered if it might be the same girl."

"I can't see Berry chasing after one of the Pogs girls," laughed Dodi. "He liked 'em prettier than that! I would've said he knew better than to dally with any farm-lass, since their fathers and brothers have pitchforks at hand."

"'Twasn't a farm-lass," said Sam. "I don't know about Mr. Merimas one way or 'tother, but if you're looking for a girl your cousin Berilac was playing about with afore he died, you're looking in the wrong place."

Frodo twisted around to stare at his friend. Sam had been so quiet until now that Frodo had nearly forgotten he was there. "But you didn't know Berry, Sam."

"No, I didn't," Sam answered, growing shy at suddenly having everyone's attention focused on him. "But I heard a thing or two about him after he was killed, and I know there's somebody right under your nose you haven't noticed. I'll wager she could tell you more if you asked her."

"Who is it, Sam? Someone I know?"

"That's right. She comes and makes your breakfast every morning. Missus- Miss-Pibble, you said her name was? Milliflora?"

"Milli?"

Sam nodded. "Now, I never saw her before the other morning, but I'm sure she's the one I heard about. D'you know her story, Frodo?"

"Not much of it, I'm afraid," Frodo answered. "Merry hired her to keep house for me when I first went to live at the cottage at Crickhollow. I know she's married to a farmer, Jebro Todbrush, but there was some quarrel between them, and she's taken up her maiden name and gone back to live with her mother in Newbury."

"She used to work here at the Hall as a kitchen-maid before she married," Melly contributed.

"And she has a little boy named Jem," added Celie.

"Yes, she brings him to Crickhollow sometimes to play in the garden while she works," said Frodo. "He's just a year or so older than Celie's Mungo."

Sam nodded. "Then it's the same Milliflora right enough. I heard tell of her when I was going around asking questions for you, Frodo, when we was first looking into Mr. Berilac's death."

"You never told me."

"I was going to, but then I saw that other maid--Lily, you remember--wearing Missus' Took's comb, Miss Melilot that was." He nodded apologetically in Melly's direction as he alluded to what must be a painful reminder for her. "It went out of my head afterwards, with all that happened and had nothing to do with her. After we went home, I never gave it another thought. I didn't place her as the same girl I'd heard about when I met her the other day. 'Twas only when I was in Newbury, gathering old gossip about Brandybucks as you asked me to. Somebody was saying what a caution Berilac was with all the housemaids here at Brandy Hall, and was telling a story how the husband of a girl who used to work here came to fight with Berilac over his wife, and it all came back to me. I remembered that Daffy told me the same story."

"Now who's this Daffy?" asked Frodo. Sam seemed acquainted with more girls than he'd been aware of.

"Daffodil, her name was," Sam answered. "She used to be a maid here at the Hall herself--a pretty girl, with yellow hair. I went about the Hall with her one day, helping out with the laundry, and she told me lots of stories about the goings on here. You remember her, Frodo."

Frodo did recall her now: she had brought a breakfast tray in to him on the morning after his bad turn and had smiled at Sam, no doubt as charmed by his sweetness and helpfulness as that other maid Lily had been when Sam had questioned her at his direction.

"I remember Daffy," Dodi said, and Isalda gave him a sharp, curious look. "She's married now, to a carter over in Stock. I remember the day that farmer came here too. He stood out on the lawn and shouted that he wanted Berry to come out and face a beating. Berry didn't go out, of course, and old Bramblebanks and Uncle Merry showed him off the property quick enough. I guessed there was some sort of scandal behind it, but I never knew what it was about 'til now."

"I didn't think to mention it yesterday," said Sam. "I had- well- things on my mind and didn't see how it was important 'til just now. I can't say about Mr. Merimas, but as for Berilac..." He was shy again as he looked at the group gathered around him, hanging on his words. "There's more scandal'n you know about. That little lad, Jem? He might be a nephew of yours."
Chapter 35 by Kathryn Ramage
Here was the connection he'd been looking for! Uncle Merry had an heir after all, although one it would be somewhat awkward to acknowledge. Was he desperate to keep the child's parentage a secret? Was that why these murders had been committed--Merimas knew, and Eliduc had been about to find out? Frodo decided that he must talk to Milli that very afternoon, to find his answer.

While the others were discussing the matter excitedly, he and Sam left the drawing room. Uncle Merry was in the front hall, and Frodo stopped to tell him, "When Merry comes back, will you please inform him that we've gone into Newbury. I want to have a word with Milli Pibble--or should I say Todbrush."

He'd hoped that the name would produce some reaction, but Uncle Merry stared at him blankly, as if the name meant nothing to him!

"I believe you're acquainted with her," Frodo pursued, "and her little boy?"

His uncle's face darkened. "What are you insinuating, Frodo?"

"Nothing, only that I mean to find the truth." And he went out, Sam at his heels.

As they left Brandy Hall, they met Merry and Pippin and the aunties returning from Bucklebury. The ladies were somber, but Merry was obviously fuming and Pippin was smirking. Sensing that this wasn't the right time to tell Merry about his decision, nor his suspicions of Uncle Merry or the astonishing information Sam had delivered regarding Milli--though Merry would certainly hear this last when he spoke to their cousins!--Frodo only said that he was going to chase down an important clue and mightn't be back until dinner-time.

After the ladies had gone in, he took Merry by the arm and asked, "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"Oh, nothing. Hy Bunce was there with his mother," Merry explained tersely, "and Pippin made a silly ass of himself."

"I only said it was pleasant to see him again," Pippin protested with wide-eyed innocence. "And why shouldn't I say it? He's a nice young lad. He doesn't have much of a chance with Celie, and I've got to find somebody to keep me company. Nearly everybody else is married these days except for you and Frodo. If I'm not quick about it, those Marishe girls will catch him." He sighed. "Oh, very well--if you don't approve of Hy, then what about Marly? This isn't a good time to start up with him, since the poor thing's all torn up over his brother, but if I give him a bit of time-"

Merry huffed. "I don't care what you do," he retorted, "or who you do it with. Just don't come and tell me about it." He stalked briskly across the lawn toward the Hall.

Pippin grinned at Frodo and Sam. "He cares," he said before he ran to catch up.

Frodo and Sam rode into Newbury, but parted when they reached the green. Frodo wanted to question Milli privately about this delicate and personal subject. While he was at the Pibble house, Sam would go into the sherriffs' guardhouse to see if they'd found the weapon that had killed Eliduc, and then wait for Frodo at the High Hay.

Milli lived with her mother and son in a bungalow on the other side of Newbury. An elderly hobbit-woman was working in the tiny front garden, kneeling and digging with her hands through a pile of rich, dark earth in a wheelbarrow. Little Jem was seated on the grass nearby, playing with a collection of carved wooden toys. They both looked up as Frodo approached the gate.

Frodo looked down at Jem, who was about four years old and staring at him with wide brown eyes. He'd seen the child a dozen times, but had never really looked at him closely before. Was there anything of the Brandybucks in that solemn little face? Jem did bear some resemblance to Celie's Mungo--both being chubby, muffin-faced, dark-curled toddlers--but there must be a thousand infant hobbits throughout the Shire who looked the same. Nothing marked him as Berry's child.

"What is you want, young sir?" asked the old woman as she sat back and brushed the dirt from her fingers.

"Mrs. Pibble?" Frodo had never seen Milli's mother before, but this must surely be her. "How do you do? I'm Mr. Baggins, Milli's employer. Is she in? I'd like to speak to her."

"She's in," answered Mrs. Pibble. "Just washing up the tea-things. She'll be to the cottage first thing in the morning, as usual."

"Thank you, but it can't wait 'til she comes tomorrow." Mrs. Pibble was regarding him with suspicion and mistrust, and Frodo wondered why. Everyone was of course nervous and wary lately, with a murderer about, but she seemed to have some particular hostility toward him. "May I come in, please?"

"Let 'm in, Mum!" Milli called out from inside the bungalow through one of the windows, and came to open the door. "Good afternoon t'you, Mr. Frodo," she said with a curtsey. "Whatever brings you here? 'Twas a surprise to hear you talking to Mum."

"I was just telling your mother I wanted to talk to you, Milli. It's rather a personal matter, but I think it will help with my investigation."

Milli nodded solemnly, as if she knew what he was referring to and had been expecting this. "Come in, Mr. Frodo. It's all right, Mum. Let 'm past."

Mrs. Pibble moved grudgingly to the other side of her wheelbarrow so Frodo could come in through the gate and up the paving-stone path to the door without climbing over her. The elderly hobbit continued to watch him warily as he entered the house, until Milli shut the door.

"You mustn't mind Mum," said Milli as she showed Frodo into a tiny but neat sitting room. "She worries for me."

"Does she think I'm the murderer?"

"Oh, no, 'tisn't that! She doesn't like me working for one o' the young gents from the Hall. She hasn't since Master Merry came and asked me if I wanted the work, but she can't argue against it as it brings us in some good money. I always tell her you're Master Merry's friend who we'd heard so much talk about afore he went off, and it's safe as deep-dug smials for me to keep house for you. I tell her you never been a bit improper with me, but she worries over it just the same, remembering my old troubles at the Hall."

Frodo realized that she had confused him with Pippin, but she understood the situation perfectly: a pretty maidservant couldn't ask for a safer employer.

"That's what I've come to ask you about, Milli," he said. "Your 'troubles' at the Hall. I haven't spoken of it before--I didn't want to embarrass you by prying into something that was none of my business, and if it weren't for the murders of Merimas and Eliduc, I wouldn't pry now. But I think there is a connection. I've heard a story today about you and my cousin Berilac, and why you live apart from your husband."

"Mr. Berry?" Milli looked puzzled. "I know what awful tale you heard, Mr. Frodo. That was what Jeb thought when I parted from 'm, but there was never anything in it."

"Then Berilac isn't your little boy's father?"

"No, of course not! I never had a thing to do with him."

Frodo was confused now as well. If she were telling the truth, then there was nothing in the gossip at all. Jem was not Uncle Merry's grandson and potential heir. And yet, Milli had expected him to come to her with questions--if not about this, then what?

Then he understood. It wasn't Berilac at all. He had found the girl who'd been involved with Merimas, and Eliduc's remark to his brother about her identity being a surprise now made sense. She'd been under his nose all the time, just as Sam had said.

"Milli," he asked, "was it Merimas who courted you?"

She nodded.

"Was he-" Frodo paused. "Was Merimas Jem's father?"

"You mustn't think badly of Mr. Merimas," Milli answered. "He was a gentleman, through and through."

"Milli, I hardly think his treatment of you makes him a gentleman."

She shook her head, her opinion unswayed. "That wasn't his doing, Mr. Frodo. 'Twas mine. Now, Mr. Berry, he was the one to watch out for. If you was a pretty maid in service at the Hall, you learned that quick enough! When Mr. Merimas saw how Mr. Berry was always after me, he put his foot down and said there'd be no more of it. He looked after me, to see I wasn't troubled again. He went out walking with me if I had errands, or saw me home back to Newbury when I had my afternoons off. I was grateful to him, and I showed him so. There was no harm in it.

"I think he might've married me. He said he wanted to, as it was only right, but his mother, Missus Mellisaunte, and Lady Esmeralda and Missus Hilda said he ought to marry Miss Celie, and he was honor-bound to do as they wanted. 'Twas for the best, and I never made him any trouble about it, nor said a word to anybody. No scandal ever touched Mr. Merimas over me. When I saw I needed a husband quick, I had Jeb Todbrush, who was wanting to marry me before I went to work at the Hall and was ready to take me up when I said I'd have him. Things was fine, 'til Jeb heard the gossip about Mr. Berry and wouldn't believe me when I said there was nothing in it. I never told 'm about Mr. Merimas, you see. I didn't, and wouldn't."

Frodo was stunned, and had to sit down. Of course, it was obvious now, the need for so much secrecy between Milli and Merimas that no one had guessed the truth. From childhood, little hobbit boys, especially among the gentry, were taught the proper way to behave with girls: One was always polite and protective, and one simply didn't play with them sexually, the way one might with other boys; kissing was the most that was acceptable for a courting couple. Gentle-hobbits were brought up to be particularly mindful of their treatment of the lower social ranks. The worst thing a gentleman could do was abuse his position of power and trust over a servant. This was why Berilac had always tried to keep his exploits among the maids at the Hall a secret from his father and family, and why Merimas could never breathe a word about the girl he really wanted to marry. It wasn't that Milli herself was objectionable, but even admitting to walking out with a girl in the Brandybucks' service would be a disgrace.

Frodo was very well aware of the onus of breaking this rule, for he was guilty of it himself. How gentlehobbits were supposed to behave to their servants hadn't weighed heavily upon him while he and Sam were far from the Shire, after all they had been through together, but he'd begun to feel it once they'd come home. To many people, the worst part of the scandal if they were discovered wouldn't be that he had fallen in love with another boy, but that he had taken his gardener into his bed. He'd taken great pains since their return from the quest to bring Sam up in the world and see that he was no longer a servant.

"Did Merimas know?" he asked Milli.

"I never told 'm, but I think he must've guessed after Jeb went to the Hall that one time and made such a fuss," Milli answered. "We barely saw each other to speak to since he married Miss Celie, but I'd catch him sometimes, when he came for her and her little boys at Crickhollow, looking at my Jem like he was wondering." She gazed at him earnestly. "You won't tell more'n you have to about this, will you, Mr. Frodo? I'd hate for any harm to come to him, even in memory, nor to my Jem. I wouldn't want Missus Celie to find out, as her and me have been friends."

"I will tell no more than is necessary," Frodo promised. Now that he had spoken to her, he still wasn't certain where the connection lay. Even if it wasn't true, had Uncle Merry believed Jem to be his grandson? "Was this what you were afraid I'd come to ask you about?"

"No." Milli was silent for a moment, then went on softly, "I know you've been asking around Newbury, Mr. Frodo, and looking for somebody that saw Merimas and knows where he went the night he was killed. I didn't want to tell you afore, as it'd only cast a bad shadow on his memory now he was dead, but I see as I have to."

"You saw Merimas the night he was killed?"

She nodded. "He came here to me."
Chapter 36 by Kathryn Ramage
"'Tisn't what you're thinking, Mr. Frodo," Milli added hastily. "There was nothing wrong about it--what was between him and me ended when he was betrothed to Miss Celie. But he came to me that night. I'd put Jemmy to bed, and Mum was sleeping too, and we sat quiet-like here in this same room and talked."

"What did he say?" asked Frodo, still amazed.

"He told me he'd quarreled with his missus. They quarreled a lot, but he said this was the last time. He told me how sorry he was at the way he treated me, and how he should've wed me and never minded the scandal. He said I was the one he loved all along and not her, poor girl."

"You feel sorry for Celie?" He would have expected Milli to resent the girl who had married her lover.

"I felt sorry for 'em both," Milli answered. "It wasn't her doing any more'n his. They wasn't suited to each other, that's all, but they couldn't've lived apart, not as Jeb and me do. It'd be too much of a scandal for the fine folk at the Hall!" She sighed. "I told Mr. Merimas I was sorry too at how it turned out, but there wasn't no help for it. He didn't want to go back to his home, but I couldn't let 'm stop the night here and I said so. He must find someplace else to sleep."

"He meant to go to one of his friends' homes," Frodo mused. "Uncle Gorbulac, most likely. That's why he was on the Hedge path at that hour." This minor part of the mystery was easy to understand now: the footpath along the Hedge wasn't the shortest route from Newbury to Bucklebury, but it was the clearest way on a moonless night, especially if Merimas wanted to avoid taking the lane past the cottages, where Celie might be waiting up for him. It might be spooky to be so near the Old Forest alone, but Merimas was a hobbit of little imagination and didn't frighten easily; he wouldn't be in danger of stumbling over uneven ground, rabbit holes, or cartwheel ruts as he would crossing the open fields or following the track past the farms. And, with the Hedge always at his left, he couldn't possibly lose his way in the dark. In the ordinary course of things, it was a sensible choice... but there was a greater danger that night that Merimas had been unaware of until it was too late. "But he never arrived."

"No," Milli agreed softly. "I saw him to the door and we said good-night. He went off and that was the last I saw of him." Her eyes glistened with tears. "The day after next, I heard how he was found killed."

Frodo tried to piece all he had learned together, and fit this remarkable new information into the theories he had already formed. "Do you know who killed him, Milli?"

She shook her head quickly.

"Did Eliduc come here yesterday?"

"Eliduc? The boy who was just killed?" The question surprised and confused her. "No, he was never here, not that I saw. But 'twas Newbury market day yesterday and I was doing my shopping. If he came calling while I was out, I'd miss him. You can ask Mum--maybe she knows."

"What about my Uncle Merimac?"

"Mr. Merimac? Now why would he come here?" Milli looked even more perplexed. "I didn't have two words with him 'm when I was at the Hall, and not one since."

When Frodo left the bungalow, Mrs. Pibble was still working in the garden, taking handfuls of earth from the wheelbarrow and heaping them around flowers she had planted in the half-circle bed beneath the window. The little boy was helping her, carefully patting down the dirt with his tiny, pudgy hands around each green stalk. The old woman gave Frodo another grudging glance as he exited.

As Milli had suggested, Frodo asked her, "Mrs. Pibble, did a young lad call here yesterday afternoon?"

"He did," she answered shortly. "Young gent, like yourself."

"And he asked to talk to Milli?"

"He did," she answered again, "but she warn't home and I told 'm so, and he said he'd come back later. Only, he didn't."

"Did he tell you his name, or say where he was going when he left?"

"No." She turned her attention to another empty flower-bed beside the paving stones of the front walk.

"Has an older gentleman ever called here--about eighty years old, quite fat and imposing-looking, with sandy hair? The late Master's brother."

"I seen 'm in town with the Masters, new 'n' old, but he never came here," she answered, but did not look up from her task of gouging out little holes with her fingers to plant more flowers in.

It struck Frodo as odd that she should use her bare hands to do this work. She'd been breaking up clumps of earth with her fingers when he'd arrived, but many people who gardened did that; many might also plant their flowers and pat down a firm bed for them with their hands, but he had watched Sam often enough to know that a gardener normally used a spade.

"Have you lost your spade, Mrs. Pibble?" he asked her.

"I thought as I left it in the wheelbarrow yesterday," she said without looking up at him, "but I couldn't find blade nor handle of it today."

Frodo walked away from the Pibble smial. He wasn't far from the center of town, but once he left the Pibbles, the lane curved around a small apple orchard, with trees just beginning to froth with white blossoms. There was a low stone wall on one side, and a meadow that sloped down toward the Hedge in the distance, and not a smial or cottage in sight; Merimas could have come and gone this way and never been seen by anyone before he reached Milli's door. But Frodo barely gave these surroundings a thought. His head was whirling with his latest discovery.

Unless Eliduc had taken the spade himself, or Milli or her mother had used it to strike him, then someone else had been in their garden yesterday afternoon to take it and commit murder. Had this person seen Eliduc calling at the smial and realized that, even if he hadn't spoken to Milli, the young hobbit had discovered enough of the truth about Merimas's love affair with her to be dangerous, then followed Eliduc to silence him?

Where had Eliduc gone after leaving Newbury? Knowing that he had called on Milli, Eliduc's next steps were now simple to guess: he'd intended to see her husband, most probably to ask Jebro Todbrush what he knew about Merimas. In broad daylight, Eliduc would take the cart track to the farm, but he'd never gotten so far.

Had the killer wanted to prevent Eliduc from speaking to Jebro? Frodo wondered as he walked along the curving lane toward the Newbury green, where Sam was waiting for him at the High Hay. That made sense of a sort, if a person were desperate enough to keep the relationship between Milli and Merimas secret. But who would go to such lengths as murder over it? He could see Uncle Merry trying to keep the matter secret if Berry had been Milli's lover and her little boy was his grandchild, but with Merimas, the only people concerned were Milli, Celie, and Merimas himself.

Why kill Merimas? Was it because he'd called upon Milli that night and betrayed their old relationship? Had the one who'd seen him enter the house, or leave it later assumed that the two were still carrying on together?

Frodo stopped in his tracks. He'd been wrong. The murderer wasn't Celie, nor Milli, nor anyone who wanted revenge against the Brandybucks for Berry's death. There was another player in that sad little drama of mismatched lovers and unhappy marriages: a jealous husband who'd cast out his wife, believing she had dallied with one Brandybuck, and discovered one night only a week ago that he'd blamed the wrong member of that family for the ruin of his marriage. When Merimas had left Milli, he'd followed his rival to a quiet spot where his actions wouldn't be seen, and-

Frodo didn't see who struck him, only heard the sound of footsteps pattering close behind him, then felt a sharp, sudden pain at the back of his head before he could turn. The world seemed to whirl around him, and he fell; it seemed to take forever before he hit the ground. Strangest of all, he heard Sam's voice shouting his name...

When he opened his eyes, a half-dozen people were in the lane. Chief Muggeredge crouched over him, and shirriffs crowded around Sam, who was standing with Sting drawn. Sam appeared to be pinning a prostrate figure to the base of the orchard wall at swordspoint; Frodo couldn't see who it was, but if his last deductions were correct, he could guess.

"Is it Milli's husband?" he asked. "Jeb Todbrush?"

"That it is, Mr. Baggins!" said Chief Muggeredge. "However did you-?"

But Frodo swooned before he heard the rest of the question.
Chapter 37 by Kathryn Ramage
When Frodo next opened his eyes, he didn't immediately know where he was. There were still a number of shirriffs nearby, and Muggeredge was standing over him, but they were now indoors: a beamed ceiling curved high above them. The light of a single candle was too bright for his eyes, and he peeked through the shade of his lashes to take in his surroundings. It was the guardhouse. They must have carried him in... then he realized with a shock that he was lying on the same table where his cousins Merimas and Eliduc had been laid out. But he was alive.

He tried to lift his head, and the dull, throbbing ache in the back of his skull suddenly became a sharp stab. He groaned and shut his eyes.

The groan drew the Chief Shirriff's attention. "Awake, are you, Mr. Baggins? That's good to see. Just lie quiet, now. You've had a bad crack on the head. We got to you just in time--or a minute behind, I might better say, but not too late to put a stop to Jeb Todbrush afore he did worse. Caught 'm red-handed! He's shut up in the back room now, where he won't do no more harm to anybody."

"How-?" With an effort, Frodo asked the question. "How did you know to come?"

"'Twas his brother Ted," Muggeredge explained. "He's had his suspicions for awhile now that Jeb knew more'n he was saying, but when he found a spade with some blood on it tucked into a mulch pile in their kitchen garden, he couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer and came to tell us. Your friend Mr. Gamgee was here, and when he said you'd gone to speak to Mrs. Todbrush, Ted said his brother had hardly been at the farm these last days, but was hanging about his wife's house to keep watch on who was coming to see her. When we heard that, I called out all the shirriffs I could and we flew off like chickens out the hen-house door when a fox gets in, only we was flying after our fox. We came upon 'm just as he hit you. You didn't see Jeb coming up ahind you, did you, Mr. Baggins, but you knew it was him? I'd like to know how, but that'll have to wait 'til you're fit to tell me about it. I thought as Mr. Gamgee was a-going to run Jeb through with that sword of his."

"Sam." Another effort, but Frodo had to make it. "Where is he?"

"He's stepped outdoors. I sent Hob to tell 'em at the Hall what'd happened. Master Merry's come for you, and Mr. Gamgee's gone out to meet 'm."

Frodo could imagine the conversation between the two. Would they quarrel over what to do with him? He remembered that he hadn't yet told Merry of his decision to return to Bag End, and hoped that Sam wouldn't blurt it out as a way of asserting his own rights.

The door opened. "How is he, Chief?" asked Merry.

"He's coming 'round, Master Merry. He was asking questions a minute ago, but he don't seem up to much talking."

Someone took his hand and squeezed the fingers, then the familiar, comforting sound of Sam's voice spoke to him softly. "Can you hear me, Frodo? Master Merry and her ladyship want you brought back to Brandy Hall so she can tend to you proper."

"Mother insists," said Merry. "You'll have the best care, Frodo. After tending Ilbie and his head, she and the aunties are in good practice."

"You know I'd rather take you back to your cottage and look after you myself," Sam said apologetically, "but I couldn't go against her ladyship."

No, he couldn't. Frodo would have preferred to recover in the quiet and seclusion of Crickhollow under Sam's ministrations as well, but if Aunt Esme insisted, he was in no condition to argue.

"There's a cart waiting outside to carry you down the road, gentle-like," Sam continued. "It's all right with you, Frodo?"

Frodo opened his eyes--there was a fresh, sharp stab of pain at the light. As he met his friend's worried gaze, he tried to nod, but it only made his head worse.

Sam let go of his hand and put a warm, steadying palm on his cheek. "Here, don't try 'n' talk. I'll carry you."

"D'you need help with 'm. Mr. Gamgee?" offered the Chief Shirriff.

"No, I've carried 'm afore. He hardly weighs nothing."

When Sam picked him up carefully from the table, Frodo wrapped an arm around his friend's neck and rested his head on Sam's shoulder as he was carried out. It was night-time, and except for a few torches before the buildings around the green, mercifully dark. There was a crowd of hobbits outside, murmuring excitedly, eager for news. A pony-cart was standing before the guardhouse door, and Sam laid him gently down on a pallet in the back, then climbed up to sit beside him and hold him while Merry took the seat in front and picked up the reins.

With his head resting comfortably in Sam's lap and Merry taking great care to avoid the bumps and ruts in the road to the Hall, Frodo drifted off again and woke when Esmeralda and, from the sound of it, every other resident of Brandy Hall came out to meet them and see him into the room prepared for him.

Once Frodo had been settled into his room, the Mistress of the Hall examined the lump on the back of his head and declared there was no sign of a cracked skull, but one never knew with these blows to the head. The wound was bathed in vinegar and a cold compress applied to bring down the swelling, but the ladies agreed that no bandage was necessary, since there was no broken skin nor blood. Aunt Hilda gave him a few drops of black syrup in a glass of water to help him sleep. When Esmeralda said that Frodo must be watched through the night in case there was any change in his condition, Sam immediately volunteered to sit with him. After promising the Lady he would call on her if Frodo grew worse or he needed anything, Sam settled down in a chair beside the fire and the others went out to hear Merry tell what he knew of the incident.

Then all was quiet. Frodo lay in a dazed, mildly drugged, and dream-like state, but knew it was no dream when Sam left his chair and came to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I mustn't sleep," Sam said as he took Frodo's hand, "but I can watch over you just as well right here as from over there."

Frodo opened his eyes just enough to peek up at his friend--the low light of the fire was still too bright for him--and gave Sam a small smile. "Thank you for saving my life, once again."

"I should've been there sooner," Sam responded. "I shouldn't've let you wander around by yourself in the first place, when I knew there was danger and I was meant to be watching out for you. If I'd come too late and he'd done you real harm, I'd've killed 'm on the spot. I might've, if the shirriffs hadn't stopped me."

"I'm glad you were there even so." He squeezed Sam's hand. "That you're here with me now, dear Sam..."

Sam smiled at him, touched and gratified by this simple expression of appreciation and leaned down to give him a kiss. Frodo tried to rise and meet him half-way, but his head whirled the instant he lifted it from the pillow, and he sank back down.

"Just you lie quiet," Sam said, and put one hand on Frodo's brow to brush the hair from his face and hold him still while he kissed him tenderly, first on the lips, then cheeks, eyelids and temples, soft and quick and cool, and soothing to Frodo's aching head as the cold compresses. Then Sam lay down on top of the blankets without undressing, and put an arm around him to gather him close. "Go to sleep now, Frodo. I'll be right here beside you, looking after you all night."

With this comforting reassurance, Frodo moved his head as much he dared to nestle against Sam's shoulder and shut his eyes to sleep.
Chapter 38 by Kathryn Ramage
Frodo woke late the next morning with the back of his head still aching, but otherwise he felt much better. He was able to sit up without dizziness, and ate the breakfast Sam brought in to him. He would have tried to get up and dressed, but both Sam and Aunt Esme insisted that he rest.

For the remainder of the morning, Frodo lay in bed drinking willow-bark tea to ease his headache and receiving visitors--first Merry and Pippin, then Melly, Celie, Dodi and Isalda, Fatty and Flora, Melisaunte, and even Ilbie with his own head bandaged and his right arm in a sling, escorted by Hilda and Estella--until the bedroom was crowded with people who wanted to hear how he had solved the murders.

"I didn't solve them," Frodo protested. "I almost ended up as the last victim."

"But Chief Muggeredge said you knew it was Jeb afore you saw him," said Sam. "You told him so. You figured it out, even if you didn't get a chance to tell anybody. However did you know?"

"I didn't see the truth until after I'd left the Pibbles' smial. Before that, I suspected... someone else." No, he wouldn't tell them; no one would know how he'd suspected his lonely and embittered uncle. "It seems obvious now. You remember, Merry--When we first interviewed the Todbrushes after they 'found' Merimas, Jebro said he'd stayed in Newbury later than usual the night before to visit his wife. Perhaps that was his intention, but I don't believe he ever saw her. Milli will confirm whether or not I'm right. I think what happened is that, when he went to her house, he saw Merimas arrive before him."

Here, Frodo hesitated. This was a delicate subject, one he was reluctant to speak of before Merimas's wife, mother, sister, and mother-in-law, not to mention the rest of the family who had always believed Merimas to be a most respectable young hobbit. But he would have to tell them if they were to understand how and why he and Eliduc had been killed.

Dodi gave a long, low whistle of surprise. "You mean, she was the mysterious girl-friend after all? Merimas was courting one of our housemaids!"

"According to Milli, they went walking together a few afternoons on her days off," Frodo answered, "but he was always a perfect gentleman, she said."

"What about the little boy?" asked Melly. "Is he Berry's child?"

"No, he isn't."

"Is he Merimas's?" asked Celie.

"No," Frodo lied.

While he could see curious and doubtful looks in a few eyes around the room, for the most part the Brandybucks were relieved to hear this. Everyone felt that if the child were truly one of their own blood, they had a responsibility towards him, but Frodo thought that acknowledging the relationship would be no aid to Milli nor her son. He would talk to Merry later about discreetly doing something for them, especially since she would no longer have her job at Crickhollow once he left it.

"There was nothing in the old gossip about Berry and Milli," he continued, "but Jebro Todbrush believed it. He must be an extremely jealous and suspicious sort of hobbit. When he saw Merimas enter the Pibble smial, he drew the worst conclusions--although Milli says it was nothing of the sort," he added for Celie's sake, even though she didn't seem very upset at learning where her husband had gone on the last night of his life. "When Merimas left, Jeb followed him and served him out the way he once meant to serve out Berry. He struck in anger. Perhaps he didn't mean to kill Merimas, but once Merimas was dead, he had to protect himself. He brought his brother along the Hedge path the next day to be sure that the body was found and any signs of his being there earlier thoroughly tramped down and confounded. When he learned that I would be investigating the murder, I think he kept an eye on me to see if he was in danger of discovery. After Merimas's funeral, he watched us at Ivysmial, and Ilbie unfortunately saw him and went to investigate. I should have guessed that it might be him earlier. His brother Ted told me that they'd parted company just after the funeral. Jebro said he was going home, but there's no indication that he did so, while Ted dawdled at the Buckle's Notch."

"And talked to Eliduc," Pippin remembered.

"Ted said something to set him off on his search, since Eliduc lit upon Milli not long afterwards. Jebro must have seen him call at her house too."

"Perhaps Jebro thought Eli had gotten too close to finding him out," said Ilbie, "just like me."

"Or else he thought poor Eli was up to no good with his wife as well," laughed Dodi. "And you too, Frodo."

"You may be right," Frodo said. "We can't know what was on Jebro's mind until he confesses."

When Chief Muggeredge called at Brandy Hall that afternoon, Frodo gave him an even more circumspect version of the events that led to Merimas's murder. The family could know of the relationship between Milli and Merimas, but Frodo didn't want it to become common gossip for both Celie's and Milli's sake. He had to reveal that Merimas had called on Milli that night, in order to explain why Jebro had followed and killed him, and trust to Muggeredge's discretion.

The Chief Shirriff heard his explanation with only a nod or two, and few questions. When Frodo was done, he said, "You needn't worry, Mr. Baggins. The tale won't get about. Nobody concerned wants it to. Jeb daren't talk about Mr. Merimas and his missus. He an't saying anything for the minute."

Indeed, Jebro Todbrush refused even to say why he had assaulted Frodo, or explain how Mrs. Pibble's spade had come to be found at his farm with blood on it. Ted Todbrush, on the other hand, had provided some information that Muggeredge thought Frodo would like to know: after he and his brother had found Merimas, Jebro had drunk enough at the High Hay to talk about false wives and wicked, seducing gents getting what was coming to them; Ted had heard Jeb speak so about Milli and Berilac Brandybuck, but he wondered if this time his brother was talking about Merimas. When he'd met Eliduc in the Buckle's Notch after Merimas's funeral, he'd brought up the subject of Milli seeing Merimas to find out if any of the dead hobbit's family knew about it, and learned that there was some old gossip. Eliduc was eager to hear all he knew. Tedro's suspicions of his brother had increased after Ilberic had been attacked and Jeb had come home very late, and began to spend more time away from the farm, spying on Milli. Thereafter, Ted had followed Frodo to try and protect him, but couldn't bring himself to speak his suspicions to the detective and betray his brother without being certain of Jebro's guilt. He'd told Muggeredge that, once he'd heard about Eliduc's death, he'd wished he had.
Chapter 39 by Kathryn Ramage
Eliduc's funeral was held the next day at the Bucklebury tomb atop the ridge of the hill above the town. The small ceremony was attended primarily by the young hobbit's friends, Brandybucks from the town and the Hall, and a few guests who remained after Merimas's funeral. The bier was carried by Dodi, Marleduc, and two other young lads from the Bucklebury branch of the family. Ilbie would have been asked if his broken arm hadn't made the duty impossible for him, but he got up for the first time since he'd been attacked to be present. Frodo was allowed out of bed as well, if tended as carefully by Sam as Estella watched over her injured husband.

After the rites had been concluded and the guests were heading down the hill to the smial of Emeliadoc and Sirabella Brandybuck for refreshments, Frodo spoke briefly with Amarilla Underhaye. "I didn't see your cousin Darco here today."

"No, Darco went home after he heard that the murderer had been captured and you'd been injured," Amarilla told him. "He was only staying to see how things turned out. I think he was disappointed I didn't go with him, but I won't and never will."

"The news of my injury must have delighted him," said Frodo.

Amarilla smiled. "For all his hard talk, I don't believe Darco actually wishes you harm, Mr. Baggins. He was even pleased to hear that the murderer was shut up safely in gaol. But he also said he supposed the farmer would now be hanged, and he didn't want to stay and see it."

"I don't like it myself," said Merry, who was walking with them. "I don't want to be the first magistrate in Shire history to actually sentence someone to hang, but I don't see how it can be avoided. Jebro Todbrush killed two of my kinsmen for no good reason and attacked two others, and I can't let that pass."

Later, as they were walking home on the road between Bucklebury and Brandy Hall with Sam and their cousins, Merry confided, "I went to see Jeb at the guardhouse this morning."

"Did he confess?" Frodo asked.

"He'll only say that he did what any husband has a right to do where his wife's honor is concerned, and that Milli's still his wife even if she... Well, I won't repeat what he said about her. He hates the Brandybucks. He seems to hold us responsible for ruining his life, and he isn't the least repentant about what he's done, but he blames Milli most, as if he wouldn't have had to kill anybody if she'd behaved herself properly."

"And you saw Milli too," said Frodo. "Did she know it was him?" He recalled how nervous she had been since the first murder.

"She said not. She didn't see her husband on the night Merimas was killed, but she's seen him often about town since, at hours when he had no business to be there. She said she's been afraid that he was up to some terrible mischief, though she didn't dare think of murder. She thought he meant harm to her or her little boy. Well, she's safe now and won't be troubled by him for much longer. I'd be doing her a favor."

"Poor Milli. And I thought Merimas was bad." Celie murmured and took Frodo by the arm to make him walk a little more slowly, so that they fell behind the group. "I never thanked you for all you've done, Frodo," she said, and stood up on tip-toe to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Everyone might be talking about me today if it weren't for you, and always saying I had something to do with Merimas being killed."

"Now they have Milli to talk about instead."

Her eyes went wide. "Do you think they'll talk so very much? No one except the family and the Shirriff knows about her and Merimas, and if the tale gets out, it's only gossip. If her husband talks about how Merimas went to see her, you and poor Eli did the same and no one could possibly believe she was carrying on with all of you. Everyone will remember how her husband behaved over Berry, and there was nothing in that, so this gossip will die down too after awhile. They'll think he's simply gone mad with jealousy."

"Perhaps you're right," Frodo had to agree.

"Besides, they can't talk much when they see how we've stood by her," Celie continued. "Have you heard? Merry says he's going to ask Milli to come in as a nursery-maid for my boys and little Addy."

"But Milli is my housekeeper."

"Merry seems to think you won't be needing her services much longer," replied Celie. "Besides, she'll be paid better at the Hall, and she can keep her little boy with her in the nursery. They are part of the family now, aren't they, even if we can't acknowledge it."

Frodo was surprised. "So you did know!"

"I knew you were lying yesterday," she answered. "I didn't guess before, but I used to see Merimas staring at Jem sometimes when he saw him at your cottage, and I wondered why. He would never speak to Milli. I thought he didn't like me associating with her either, but I know better now."

"And you won't mind having Milli and Jem about?"

"No." Celie shook her head. "I ought to, shouldn't I? I should hate Milli as a husband-stealer, but I don't feel that way. Not in the least. Now I know what was between her and Merimas, I see why he was always so mean to me. It used to feel awful when he said things about me and Berry. I thought it was my fault that our marriage went wrong. I couldn't ever be the sort of wife he wanted--but now I know I wasn't the wife he wanted at all. And he misbehaved just as badly as Berry ever did, so I don't feel so bad myself anymore."

As Celie left him to walk with her mother and Melisaunte, Frodo thought that she might have been a silly young girl, but she was growing up into an interesting young lady, just as Amarilla had predicted.

Just before they reached the Hall gardens, he caught up with Merry and tugged on his coat sleeve to draw him aside. Frodo had wanted to speak to Merry privately the day before, but had had no chance while he was abed; cousins and aunties were in and out of his room all day, and Sam was always at the bedside as if he meant to keep guard. In fact, Sam remained to keep watch over them now from a discreet distance once they stopped under the trees that bordered the Hall gardens while the rest of the party went on.

"I'll stay at the Hall tonight, since your mother insists, but I'm going back to Crickhollow tomorrow," he told Merry. "I want to be there for my bad spell next week. Sam has agreed to stay 'til then, and care for me. We've made plans to prepare for it." They'd discussed these plans while he was in bed: Sam would gather athelas from the woods near the Hedge and have it ready to brew on the day; Frodo knew from his spell last year that the wholesome scent of the leaves had helped him to sleep through the worst, and his dreams were more restful than the usual waking nightmares. With that potion and the Queen's gemstone to ease his pain, Frodo hoped that his bad spell wouldn't be so terrible this time. "Afterwards, Merry, I'm going back to Bag End with Sam."

"Yes, I thought you would," Merry answered.

"You guessed it already, didn't you? Celie said you expected me to be leaving soon and offered Milli another job. Did Sam tell you?"

"He didn't need to. I knew he meant to take you back the minute he arrived in Buckland, even if he had to throw you across his pony's saddle and carry you off. He had that look--he has it now. I wouldn't dare stand in his way! There've been too many Brandybucks injured lately."

"Coward," Frodo said affectionately. "Then it's... all right if I go?"

"Of course, it's all right! You belong with him, Frodo. I always knew it. You were the one who pretended it wasn't so. I've told you time and again that you might leave whenever you liked. But I will miss you."

"I'll miss you too. I do love you very dearly, Merry."

"And I love you, but it isn't the same thing and we both know it," Merry responded. "We don't care that deeply about each other. When I sent Sam off to you at Crickhollow, I knew you'd spend the night getting a lovely rogering, and I didn't mind. I was pleased for you. But Pippin only has to smile at Hy Bunce and I know he does it to provoke me, but it drives me wild just the same."

Frodo acknowledged that this was true: Their relationship had given them both companionship in a lonely time and a great deal of pleasure; they might have gone on comfortably together for many years more, but they didn't share the heart-felt passion that made love a torment and a hunger and the most marvelous of life's joys. He'd never feel for Merry the way he felt about Sam. They'd become lovers nearly a year ago on the friendliest of terms, and they could part now in the same friendly spirit.

"I don't want to leave you alone, Merry," Frodo said after they had one last, light kiss in farewell

"I won't be alone," Merry answered. "I have a whole house full of Brandybucks to keep me company."

"You know what I mean. After all the trouble Pippin's taken, I'm sure he'd be delighted if you wanted to have him back."

"I know. I'm not a fool, even if I behave like it sometimes."

"I suspect I am--the biggest fool in the Shire," Frodo said. "When we broke with them, we said that it was for their sake as much as our own, but that was wrong. I was wrong. Sam's made me see it. It wasn't kinder to break with him before I had to. Even if we don't have much time together, we must make the most of what time we have, and so must you and Pippin. Maybe he will get married one day, or you might, but that day is a long way off. In the meantime, Crickhollow will be empty again. Our discreet arrangement there worked very well, and Pippin might agree to stay for awhile on the same terms, if you asked him nicely."

Merry smiled and glanced over Frodo's shoulder. Sam was not the only person who had lingered to wait for them; Pippin was standing near the garden gate. When he met Merry's eyes, he smiled in return. "I already have," said Merry.
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