There he was, his old mate, right where Hoggs hoped he would be! Dwimmer was waiting on the south side of the monument, facing Thorin's Gate on his well packed goat. Not only could Hoggstari see what looked like bundles of provisions, there was a fair sized keg sitting on top of the packs that were positioned behind Dwimmer. The Outfitter could always count on his friend to think of everything important to Dwarven exploration.
Rose coloured light was rising over the hills and promised rain or snow later in the day. Unlikely either of the companions would see any snow falling that day for they would likely be well west and into more temperate climes before nightfall.
The road was clear, and the travelling fast and uneventful. There was a few stops along the way so that the goats could take some water. It was just before dusk, when the dwarves arrived at near the Elvish settlement of Dulliond. As the goats took a breather, Hoggstari approached the stableman on the north side to exchange some odoriferous blue bottles of lineament. There would be a few more deliveries of goods along their trek. Far be it for Hoggs to undertake such an adventure without keeping his trade in mind. Dwimmer simply chuckled, not expecting the exchange but not being surprised by it either.
Within an hour of arrival at Dulliond, the two sturdy friends returned to the road, crossing the expanse from Ered Luin into the Shire. Oddly, it seemed unusually quiet as they passed over the roads that crossed through farmlands and hamlets. They fully expected to see hobbits bouncing around, chattering like red squirrels. But that would not be the case this time.
By the time they reached Michel Delving, it was near the change of day into the next day. Dwimmer suggested they find a pub, as he was sure there would be one somewhere there. A fine place to revive themselves and their mounts.
Hoggstari wanted to press onward, his excitement for the forthcoming treasure hunt driving it, but he agreed, besides the animals needed a good long rest. Other than the complaints of tiny tankards, the two friends enjoyed good vittles and ale in the local Inn and eventually were found with heads on the table that was now vibrating from two hearty snorers.
Just before dawn, after a couple hours of sleep, Dwimmer awoke and tapped Hoggstari on his shoulder to rouse him awake. The travellers left a pile of coins on the table, headed straight for their goats and were again on their way. The scent of baked goods and strong coffee filled the misty morning air. Though early, the Hobbits were obviously preparing for a long day of toiling in the soil, darting from here to there and their seemingly unceasing conversations.
The road between the Shire and the Bree-lands was again, very quiet, oddly enough. In the past, Hoggstari had encountered a good deal of bandits and other miscreants along that stretch of road, but not that morning. Goats and riders made quick work of their journey and just as the sun was at its apex, the West Gate of Bree came into view. Hoggs glanced over to his white bearded friend and offered him a crooked grin saying, "We need find us a guide from this point forward, but no mention of treasure, aye? Sharing with you, my friend is one thing, but no need to split things three ways! We hide the reason for seeking our destination, agreed?" Shaking his head from side to side, letting out of woeful sigh, Dwimmer agreed. Hoggstari laughed then pointed to the gate. In they went.
To be continued...
