The Silken Key

Chapter 4

"So how long has your farm been under attack?" Detlef felt like he was having to try different questions until he got a useful answer. The farmer, whose name was Redford, seemed to be unwilling to say much about the problem.

"It's only happened this morning." Redford wheezed as they hurried down the winding path among the rocks towards a farmhouse on a hillside. To one side of the house was a meadow of trees on a steep slope, facing the sea and benefiting from the cool mountain breeze. Behind the house was a cornfield. Neither the meadow nor the field had any signs of an invasion. There was no pillar of smoke rising, nor a camp raised by pillaging orcs or bandit raiders. Everything seemed, at first glance, quite peaceful.

"Farmer Redford, you're going to have to tell us a little about what we're dealing with before we decide how best to help you!" Maddy insisted. The alchemist was turning red in the face from running. It was difficult to imagine he'd been so calm and composed when they'd left The Whiskered Squid.

"It's really better if you see for yourselves." Redford said, his voice becoming hushed as they approached the front of the house. Quietly, he led them inside by way of the front door. It was a dark, rustic home and almost every surface was bare wood. It smelled of moss and hay. There was not much furniture and all the windows were covered by plain fabric curtains.

Redford tiptoed across the main room towards one of the rear windows next to a wooden rocking chair with a scraggly human figure in it, with wild straw-coloured hair and a dirty hat balanced on its head.

"It was early this morning when I was about to take out my new scarecrow," Redford explained almost in a whisper. "I couldn't believe what I saw when I went out there. I've never seen the likes of it. I turned right around and went to get help."

"For the last time, man," Detlef grunted impatiently. "Seen the likes of what?"

"Take a look for yourself." Redford pointed towards the window. There was a look of dread on his face that made Detlef's stomach flip with anticipation.

Detlef slowly paced forwards, his hand feeling heavy and numb as he lifted it to make a little gap between the curtains. Light spilled into the dark room and Detlef peered through the gap, ready to throw himself on the floor if a hail of arrows or throwing knives came flying his way from the fearsome invaders outside.

At first, he didn't see anything. He squinted, his eyes adjusting to the bright sun on the yellow cornfield. Then he noticed a black figure in the middle of the field. If he'd only been passing, he would have probably assumed it was a scarecrow. A very short one. It was quite far away, but even from a distance, he could make out the shape of a child, or perhaps an adult kneeling. Then a slight breeze ruffled the figure's clothes, causing them to ripple and glisten like silk in the sun, defining the shape of the figure a little more. It was then that Detlef realised what he was looking at.

"It's a hobbit," he said, looking at Farmer Redford, confused.

"That's what I thought too," Redford replied flatly like he didn't see the problem. "Are you going to help me with it?"

"Well...yes..." Detlef replied hesitantly. "But...it's one hobbit. Looks like a lady hobbit."

"What are you saying?"

"Well...couldn't you just go out there yourself and ask her to move along?"

"Ask her to move along?" Redford repeated as if it was the most outrageous, stupid thing anyone could have suggested. "Just go out there and ask, you say? That hobbit has been there since sunrise and she hasn't moved a single inch. That's not normal! There's something unnatural going on out there. Some kind of trap, or witchcraft."