[Envinyatar]

Derufin caught Buttercup’s eye. The lass was across the room, just extracting herself from a table of Hobbit lads who appeared well into their cups. With a slight nod of his head, he motioned for her to come over. She gave a wave of her hand to her admirers and wove her way to his table. He drew her close, his chin flicking toward the man now talking to Jinniver.

‘Who’s that one?’ he asked in a low voice. ‘Do you know him? What’s his story?’ Buttercup’s eyes fell on Snaveling. ‘He seems too fond of the ladies,’ Derufin went on, his attention on the man’s conversation with his new friend. ‘Does he bear watching, Buttercup? Or is he just some harmless drone seeking the attention of any queen?’

Buttercup drew back at Derufin’s sharp words. It was unlike him to judge someone so harshly and especially one he had not yet met. His furrowed brow stayed her own scolding remarks; the look of concern on his face prompting her to tell him what she knew of the man. She took the stable-master aside, away from the prying consideration of the Hobbits at his table. Gestures punctuating phrases, she told him the story of Snaveling’s last visit, giving at last her own opinion of the man. ‘Not the sort we wanted in the Inn when he first arrived,’ she began, her brows raising. ‘Him or his friends. Carries some great secret about him, I know that. Though what it is I haven’t been able to ferret it out. Ruby either, for that matter . . .’

Derufin listened closely to Buttercup’s version of the man, filtering out her conjectures as he gleaned what facts he could. Aman’s name seemed to be mentioned fairly often in the narrative and he wondered if Snaveling’s appearance had brought in the dark clouds that scudded across her features in those momentary lapses of her public face.

‘And anyways, that’s what I know . . .’ ended the Hobbit, looking up to see what Derufin thought. His face was a noncommittal mask as he thanked her for the information. She frowned at his silence. ‘Bring me an ale, luv,’ he said after a long pause, a grin lighting his face then. ‘I’ve gone dry listening to you.’ She smiled and shook her head, his teasing manner restoring the easy balance between them. ‘And take two to the table where Master Snaveling sits, one for him and Mistress Jinniver. My compliments to the lady, say.’

Buttercup hurried away. He watched her as she brought the ales to Jinniver’s table. Derufin nodded to the woman and then to her companion as they looked toward where he stood. Yes . . . he will bear some watching . . . he thought. His eyes slid away from them to where the Innkeeper stood.