[Envinyatar]

Derufin’s stomach protested its empty state, prompting him off the bench and back into the kitchen. Cook was sitting at the kitchen table with a lovely young woman, who was tucking into the generous meal that was placed before her with a hearty appetite. He sliced himself some more ham and two thick slices of bread. Slathering them with mustard, he piled on the ham, and added a thin slice of cheddar for good measure. A few pickles later, and a slab of apple tart on the side, and he had filled his plate to brimming.

He approached the table where the two women were sitting and sat down as unobtrusively as possible. The golden haired young lady looked up as he took his place, and he smiled at her, asking both of them if they minded his company. Cook motioned to him to stay seated and the two resumed their conversation. Derufin was half listening as he ate when he heard Cook tell her about Mistress Piosenniel’s soon-to-be return to the Inn.

‘Not quite certain when that will be,’ she told Laurie, ‘but she and her mister and the twins will be here, and they will have their Naming Day party here.’

‘Two weeks from yesterday.’ The quiet voice of the man broke in on their talk. Cook looked at him, her eyebrows raised at this statement. He reddened slightly, and ducked his head, concentrating on his apple tart. ‘Two weeks,’ he mumbled around his mouthful of sweets. ‘She wrote to me. That’s when they will be here.’

‘I see,’ said Cook, an appraising look come into her eyes.

‘I’ll just be off now,’ he mumbled, gathering up his dish to deposit it into the sink. ‘I seem to have picked up a new helper, and I’d like to get her settled in. Willofain’s her name . . . an orphan of sorts . . . from somewhere near Lasgalen . . . handy with horses . . . chickens too, it seems . . .’ He broke off, realizing he was prattling on, and now both women were staring at him.

‘Yes . . . well . . .’ he fled to the door and was almost through it when Cook’s voice stopped him. ‘Talk to Beren, will you, Derufin. He’s in need of a room. I suggested perhaps he could bunk out with you.’ With a nod, Derufin hurried out the door and in to the yard beyond.

Cook laughed at his hastily retreating figure. ‘I should have known! Mistress Piosenniel has made another conquest!’ She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if she has any idea . . .’