The mid-year storm of 1344 hit the upper moors around Gurndell and Cawland very hard; all of the cereal crops were destroyed and much livestock was scattered or killed. The storm was luckily localised to the very north part of the farthing; good harvests were gathered in elsewhere so the sherriffs and counsellors decreed that this year’s tithe would be sent to the upper dales to be redistributed to those in need. Nonetheless this year became too difficult for some of the smaller smials to survive and a handful of families chose to move south. The high moors will have a few less neighbours than before. Gogglegard did not escape the disaster and things will become rather tight for a few years. Gorboduc sent his apologies for not meeting his friends that autumn but there was too much to sort out. Edgar also sent apologies but for happier reasons. He was proud to announce that Bella had just given birth to their first son; Otho.
In The Three Pigs Tavern the gathered friends enquired after a wan-looking Halfred who sheepishly explained that he had only just been allowed off bed rest to attend his own wedding. To say that Halfred's summer had been 'busy' would be an understatement. In addition to his usual chores at the smial and at the tavern, he was trying to organise his wedding and find out about the Took lands and deal with outbreaks of water-borne diseases after the flood and was expected to help out with the cereal harvests in Greenfields. By the end of Wedmath he collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Dame Hatilde Oldbuck, one of the counsellors in Kings Worthy and the most respected and feared healer in the whole North Farthing, had some very sharp words for everyone involved. The friends resolved to organise an extremely sedate stag party for him.
First though, all able-bodied hobbits were asked to gather at mill pond to help repair their town’s damaged water mill. Tobold and his pa Codger Arkwright had spent the month building a frame on site, so now it only remained for a team of enthusiastic hobbits to rig up the actual pulleys and levers and put the big wheel back in place according to Bifin and Bifog’s plans. The dwarven instructions and model had scaled up to a scary-looking contraption so it took both Falco and Mungo to persuade enough hobbits to grab the ropes and join in. Tobold and Isenbold made sure that everything was rigged up correctly, while Marroc co-ordinated the teams to keep everything balanced. To the applause of onlookers the water wheel was carefully raised, angled and slotted into place with a minimum of fettling. Just as well since Halfred, on catastrophe lookout, had dozed off.
Returning to the Three Pigs for a good cleanup, the hobbits saw that the town square and all parts of Old Harp Tavern had been festooned with garlands of bright marigold flowers. There were tubs of sunflowers and buttercups and marigolds everywhere. Goodman Holdfast wanted everyone to know that his eldest daughter was getting married and the townfolk were very happy to help him celebrate. Celebrations at the stag party, by contrast, were decidedly sedate with some sombre singing which Halfred quickly put a stop to. Isenbold honed his dart game while Marroc moped over the absence of Miss Estelle. Mungo escaped across to the party at The Old Harp, ostensibly to check details of the wedding the following day. The hen party was enjoying a steamy spa session. The stag party called it an early night.
Next day Mungo, as best man, obtained an additional ‘backup’ gold ring, Isenbold ensured that the ladies were all sobered up, Tobold verified wedding schedules with Dame Jowett, while Marroc and Falco decided to do something about Halfred’s worn and overly-casual wedding outfit. What he needed, Falco decided, was a stylish frock coat. Halfred protested that he couldn’t possibly afford one and Falco was all prepared to loan his own when they noticed, across the square in the window of the tailor’s shop, a red velvet coat with brass buttons on sale. They bought it as a wedding present for him and Halfred lucked out yet again.
The wedding itself went remarkably smoothly with vows exchanged, documents signed and everyone quickly processing out to a lavish reception at The Old Harp. Halfred vaguely remembered that his parents agreed to provide supplies to the tavern in exchange for shares as part of the legal arrangment. There were many toasts and another cracking best man’s speech from Mungo hinting Hackenbottom scandals which did not sit well with the visiting Longbottom branch. Isenbold had to be extra courteous afterwards to regain respectability and secure an invitation to visit. Marroc recruited cousin Rowan for chaperoning duties whenever Miss Estelle could be persuaded to visit again. Mungo did his very best to monopolise Miss Lily for the dances, and even Tobold managed a second dance with sweet Pearl Hedgehopper from the patisserie. Eventually Marigold and Halfred bid farewell to the throng and departed town by pony and trap to a secret honeymoon location.
Some days later Sherriff Ferdinand Diggins summoned the remaining miscreants for a word. “See, we’ve had reports and complaints a’coming in from a village for nigh over a year now. Now in the normal course of things the bounders would have a look-see and sort things out. The Bounders report insists there’s nowt to sort. So then they pestered the Tooks who are busy with this goblin business. And now they are refusing to pay the crop tithe until something is done about it all. Now I have no reason to doubt Master Bertram, he’s a good Bounder, but there’s a lot of folk suffering in Cawland and Gurndell who really need that tithe to get through winter. And the NorTooks are being snippy about the Hackenbottoms dereliction. So I need you lot to head on over to Wooperton and fix their wishing well, or whatever you need to do to get that there tithe collected and sent here.”
They consulted their trusty map and Mungo did his very best to persuade them all that Nikkerwick was a very minor, trivial diversion from the route to Wooperton. Since Falco was also keen to get his family safely home before dealing with trouble, he roundly seconded the idea. To Nikkerwick they went, arriving just late enough that the Baxters would have to invite them to stay the night. After a wash and change all were invited in to a formal, seven course evening dinner with the family. The group were re-introduced to Gramps Hugo, Masters Lotho, Larkin and Lumbo, Mistress Lavender and the younger adults Lily, Iris, Pearl, Lucki, Folco and Polo. Mungo was seated for dinner between Master Lotho and Mistress Lavender — Lily’s mum and dad. From Lily’s supressed grin he gathered that he was the entertainment for the evening.
During the hors d'oeuvre, soup, and salad courses Mungo navigated his way through the full array of gleaming silver cutlery, china and cut glassware set out on the table. He managed this etiquette trial splendidly due to an obscure book he’d once read. Over the fish and meat courses he was invited to lead the amusing dinner conversation: a challenge which played to his strengths. With some help from his friends he bounced many jokes all the way around the table, keeping everyone merry and outstandingly entertained. During dessert and cheese conversation turned to hunting and fishing, but the social scene of landowners rather than for providing food. This was difficult test but with a little help from Isenbold Mungo pieced together enough knowledge to just scrape through. Their hosts finally bid them an affable goodnight and they were led away to some cabins on the lake with a warning not to disturb the other occupants.
Mungo was up early the following morning and decided to munch first breakfast out by the lake. A loud splashing disturbed his thoughts; he was surprised to see a handsome young chap swimming nearby who introduced himself as Nat, a friend of the family. Green cat eyes gave a clue that Nat might not be entirely mortal. Mungo was carefully courteous and to a question of how he knew Lily spun an amusing tale of their meeting during last Springtime games. Nat was entertained and asked if Mungo might be a musician and seemed disappointed at the emphatic “no”. “Would you like to be?” he asked and offered to make Mungo such if offered something ‘exclusively his’. Mungo very politely refused. Nat did not seem at all upset and allowed that Mungo was “much nicer than that other chap. There was something very wrong about him.” Nat dived underwater and disappeared.
By second breakfast everyone else was up and gathering by the lake so noisily that the occupants of the other cabin came out — Halfred and Marigold — there were loud cheers. “What in Udûn are you lot doing here?” “We’re on a mission!” The newly-weds decided to join in the expedition to Wooperton as it was on their way to the mathom house anyway. They checked over the pirate raft on the lake and found that it had weathered well. Lily came to wave them off and Mungo let her know that he’d met Nat. She seemed relieved that he hadn’t exchanged anything. On the hills over to Furze Ford and Wooperton they hiked through a light rain shower. As they walked the gentle patter of the rain hitting the ground began to sound like footsteps. Puddles started to collect in the shape of small and big footprints. Whispers were heard on the wind in Westron and an unknown tongue: “this way, come on, come on.” “Quickly now or they will find us, go go go.” As the rain passed the footprints faded away. No visible sign was left.
The companions reached Wooperton by early afternoon. As before they headed first to The Tinkers Inn to refresh themselves with Master Boulderhill’s full-bodied summer beer. A few leading questions got Theo grumbling about counsel elders and their disinterest in the village’s water supply, “can’t get no-one to take us serious-like.” The group wandered outside to take a closer look at the the clootie well. Nestled among the roots of a huge old oak tree was a stone well, about two foot in diameter with a wooden lid, roof and a winder for a bucket. The branches of the oak were hung with strips of faded cloth (clooties) which blew mournfully in the breeze. They rattled the old bucket down and after about 20 foot it splashed into water. Hauling it back up revealed sulphury smelling water with a faint oily sheen, clearly contaminated. Next they tried lowering a lantern down which illuminated stone, dark water and tree roots but no obvious monster. Nonetheless, the watching villagers didn’t approach.
Isenbold volunteered to go down since it was his family that was supposed to be protecting this area. Poppy was not happy. Using a new rope belayed around the sturdy oak trunk they lowered Isenbold as stealthily as possible down into the dark. At first he couldn’t see too much even with the help of a lantern: bedrock with water trickling into a shallow basin that he could stand up in. Smaller and larger cracks in the rock with roots and ferns and a faint smell of soot. A pile of copper pennies and farthings sliding underfoot which folk had thrown down to make a wish. But this outrageous disturbance brought out from its crevice a tiny, hissing dragonling with the hugest eyes. “Oh, it’s so cute!” exclaimed Isenbold, before it could even announce itself.
“I am Jasspyritax the Perniciouss! Desspoiler of wells! Devourer of newtss! Desstroyer of toadss!” declared the little rust-red wyrm. “Sstay off my hoard!
He clearly believed he was a very big, scary dragon. He wasn’t. He didn’t even give Isenbold pause. “Who’s the cutest of all scourges then? You, yes, you are!”
Jasspyritax attempted to defend his hoard and managed, after a couple of big breaths, to cough out a tiny smoke ring. Isenbold was very sympathetic and suggested that it was awfully damp down there. He extolled the virtues of a hobbit hole: dry, comfortable with plentiful food. He offered Jasspyritax some of his cheese and Jass liked that tribute very much indeed. Isenbold promised to build him a much nicer hole somewhere else and to move every last farthing there for him. Jass held out for a nice dry hole and his complete hoard and a regular tribute of blue cheese. The deal was done.
Isenbold signalled to be hauled back up and called his companions in for a huddled consultation out of earshot of the villagers. “I’ve found a wyrm. He’s adorable.” They figured that the best way to get Jasspyritax out of the well was to bring him and the hoard up together. Mungo trotted off to get an empty ale barrel from Master Theo, promising to replace it from his family’s cooperage store as soon as possible. Tobold drilled rope, air and drainage holes at precisely measured points. Falco persuaded the villagers to back much further away from the ‘dangerous cockatrice’ that they were extracting. Finally Isenbold went back down with the barrel and explained their plan. Jasspyritax was only interested in supervising as his ‘hoard’ was carefully counted into the barrel: 111 pennies and 26 farthings plus one additional penny as a show of faith. He climbed in atop the hoard and Isenbold put the lid on. They hauled up one slightly smoking barrel.
Once out of the village and heading up to the moors, the hobbits and dragonling took a little time to assess each other. “I am Jasspyritax the Perniciouss,” the little flapping lizard declared, “greatesst and chiefesst of pestss! Fear my awesome powerss!” and he squinted in mighty concentration. Nearly all the companions failed to be even slightly wise — they went “awww!” Only Falco, Halfred and Marroc felt that trouble might yet ensue. Jass was quite satisfied with his entourage, “Feel that mortalss? That’ss dragonfear. A powerful aura of awe radiating from me!” Jass was even happier when they stopped to camp overnight and the hobbits lit up their pipes around the campfire. He was vastly impressed by their smoke rings — clearly a tribute to his own pyrotechnic self! But then they gave him some pipeweed to smoke and he became ecstatic indeed: happy, squirmy and confident enough to nip at a few coin purses in his greed for more pennies. Falco was very cross about it all, but Marroc solved the crisis by scritching Jass’ scaley belly until until he melted into a wriggly puddle on the ground. Apparently dragonlings were ticklish. Who knew? Marroc also rewarded Jass by adding his spare Begonia engagement ring to the hoard. Jass’ eyes grew even wider — he never knew such beautiful metal existed before. “What is thiss preciousness?” That seemed to the hobbits to be ominous, somehow.
Next morning, they built Jass his very own limestone cairn on a remote part of the high moors. The hoard was meticulously arranged inside it under his vigilant supervision and, when they were all done, several of the hobbits added their own pennies for good luck. They left the happy little dragonling with a round of blue cave cheese and bid him a fond farewell. All the hobbits dispersed back to their own smials and tasks for the remainder of the autumn season. The worriment over Wooperton Wishing Well had been fully solved and obviously they are all very good at this problem-solving bounder business. But even the very wise cannot foresee all ends.
