Who Is Killing the Brandybucks? 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.
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