[Arry]

Ferdy had come up to the table with his companions. The rain had put a temporary hold on his plans to finish the little fence he’d planned for the front yard of the groundskeeper’s cottage. A simple post and rail he thought, just enough to encourage those wild, rambler roses that grew along the fence row of his Gran’s old place. They were pretty, he thought, and always reminded him of his Ma; she had loved them so.

Gil and the others had shown him their find. He’d been drawn into the idea of doing some exciting story and had offered his help as a back stage sort of assistant. He was already imagining some scenery he might paint on flat background boards for the stage Mister Derufin had offered to build, and his Da was clever with furniture and such. He promised the others he would ask Andwise if he could build some chairs and tables and whatever else might be needed.

His stomach was grumbling loudly as they came up to the table where his Da sat with Derufin and Zimzi. The mention of pie made it growl all the more loudly. At the invitation of Derufin, they sat down at the long table and ordered ale for themselves.

Ginger came out from the kitchen bearing a tray with baskets of bread. She put one on each table and was soon followed by Buttercup and Ruby with their platters of sliced cheeses and pots of mustards and pickles. Ferdy’s eyes lit up at the sight of Ginger and the food. He waved her over once she was done, making room on his bench for her to sit with him . . .