“They all go together,” Roger said gruffly. “It’s all one story, I mean, but printed in three volumes.” “Oh, aye?” Jamie turned over one of the books gingerly, as though afraid it might disintegrate in his hands. “It’s glued, is it? The binding?” “Aye,” Roger said, smiling. “It’s called a paperback, that sort of wee book. They’re cheap and light.” Jamie weighed the book on his hand and nodded, but he was already reading the back cover. “Frodo Baggins,” he read aloud, and looked up, baffled. “A Welshman?” “Not exactly. Brianna thought the tale might speak to ye,” Roger said, his smile deepening
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