The storm was nearly over as they traveled, only a slight drizzle remained as morning was only a couple hours away. For a while the two hobbits did not speak, the both of them just stared forward lost in what had taken place behind them. Jabit kept glancing at the Baris and his necklace but nothing happened. The awkward silence was broke as Barris caught the messenger starring.
“They say you are a thief Mr. Treadfoot. But from what I can recall you are merely a merchant of jams. Now tell me you have some of those, I think it would be a fair repayment of my service this night.”
Jabit stared ahead as he thought about the last time he sold his mother's jams. It was to a town called Trath in the east. It had to have been a few weeks ago when he made his delivery there. The smell of wild strawberry and sweet kernroot jam lingered in his memory. His caravan was filled with all sorts of jams, folks could smell it from trails away it seemed. His mind thought back to the broken down caravan in this forest. The jars and barrels were strikingly familiar to him, as if he was standing in the back of his own caravan in a bad future.
“You ok Mr. Treadfoot?” Barris asked, interrupting his thoughts
Jabit shook his mind clear and replied,
“I am sorry, I do not have any jams with me… When was the last time you had one from me?”
Barris thought to himself for a moment before he replied,
“Ah, It has been years. But I still remember the taste of that sweet pomegranate filling in the pastries I baked back then…”
A soft smile settled across his face at the memory,
“How come you haven’t been around?”
Barris studied the hobbit, realizing the perplexed look on his face. Jabit responded with a confused tone, his eyes looked down at his lap, but it seemed he was staring at his memories,
“... I don’t know actually...”
Barris didn’t want to ask anymore questions, but he needed to know where Jabit was going. He had a feeling something bad was going on in Jabit’s mind but getting to the bottom of it was up to Jabit himself. As they approached a fork in the road he called for his pony to stop and and asked his final question.
“Where is it you are going Jabit? I have to travel to Mesmir northwest of here.”
Jabit looked up at the signs which labeled each road, the one on the right read Paetok.
“The farm is just outside of Paetok, I should be fine from here. Thank you Barris... You saved my life.”
Barris nodded, before handing the messenger a small hunting knife and a sheath from his belt.
“Take this. You don’t want to be defenseless if you come across anymore danger. Be safe my friend.”