[Ealasaide]

Rochadan listened to Earcwen’s singing with a distant half-smile on his face, touched by the way the girl had immersed herself so deeply into her song. He found the delight in her face infectious as she finished the song that had started out so sadly with a joyous happy ever after. As the last note faded away, he joined the children in a hearty round of applause for her. For a moment, she did not look at him or the two children, nor did she speak, but continued to look inward upon herself with an expression of delight and almost childlike rapture upon her face. Then, with a soft sigh, she gave herself a little shake and turned to Rochadan.

“You asked for the favour of a song, good sir,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I hope the song was pleasing enough to you and to the children.”

“It was wonderful!” he answered, accompanied by a chorus of agreement from Andhun and little Sallie. “You have acquitted yourself admirably! It was a lovely little song.”

Looking pleased with herself, Earcwen, clapped her hands together once and beamed like a child herself.

“Now Papa!” said Sallie, tugging at her father’s trouser leg. “Sing Sweet Sallie.”

Looking down at Sallie, Rochadan gave his daughter an affectionate smile. He had noticed over the last several minutes that her giggles, though happy, had taken on the thin, rather strained quality that told him she was still feeling tired and a bit overly-sensitive. Any small disappointment could push her back over the brink into tears. Andhun, too, despite the all merriment, was looking a bit worn-out as well. With a good-natured wink at Earcwen, Rochadan knelt down before Sallie and took one of her small hands in each of his. Swinging them playfully back and forth as though they were dancing, he said, “I’ll sing Sweet Sallie, but only two verses. Then we go eat lunch. If we don’t, I’m afraid young Andhun may swoon. Besides, I’m feeling a bit peckish myself. Agreed?”

When Sallie smiled happily and nodded, Rochadan breathed a sigh of relief. It was well past the time they should have gone in for luncheon, and he could only imagine what Cook was saying about him behind his back for being so late. Though he felt a little self-conscious about singing Sallie’s lullaby in front of Earcwen and Andhun, it being one of the songs he had made up himself to sing Sallie to sleep in front of the fire and no real ballad at all, he would be happy to oblige if two verses would be all it took to get the child inside to a bite of food and a nap. Andhun, too, for that matter. In reality, two verses amounted to but a pittance. The song itself had grown, since its first inception, to a dozen or so verses and could go on for what seemed like forever sometimes. Still swinging Sallie’s hands gently back and forth, he began to sing in a deep, pleasantly masculine voice:

My Sallie lies far beyond the Misty Mountains
She sleeps in a tow’r by the gray, rolling sea
I’d ride through the night
And through many tomorrows
To bring my sweet Sallie to me.

Sing hey-nonnie-nonnie, hey-nonnie, hey-nonnie-hey
Bring back my Sallie to me.
Sing hey-nonnie-nonnie, hey-nonnie, hey-nonnie-hey
Bring my sweet Sallie to me.

The briars grow wild around my Sallie’s tower
They bear crimson roses so fair for to see
Sword in hand, I would cut through
Great tangles of briars
To bring my sweet Sallie to me...

As he finished the last chorus of hey-nonnies he leaned slowly forward until at the final bring my sweet Sallie to me the tip of his nose came to rest against hers. For an instant, father and daughter shared a small, private smile, then Sallie threw her arms around her father’s neck and kissed his cheek. He picked her up and, rising, set her on his hip. Rochadan turned to Andhun.

“Then it’s off to our luncheon, we go.” He gave Andhun a helpful arm up from where the boy had again taken a seat on the floor. Then, turning to Earcwen, he smiled.

“I’m afraid as part of the inn’s staff, we eat in the kitchen rather than the common room with the guests. Nonetheless, we would be honored if you would join us, Miss...er...Miss...” he trailed off awkwardly, realizing that neither one of them had been properly introduced.

“Miss Earcwen,” Andhun chimed in helpfully. “Her name’s Miss Earcwen, sir.”

“...Miss Earcwen,” finished Rochadan. “My name is Rochadan. This is my daughter, sweet Sallie. It seems you and young Andhun have already met! Would you give us the pleasure of joining us for lunch?”