[piosenniel]

Zimziran

The day had advanced to a lovely mid afternoon. And had proved quite profitable to her labors, as well. In the back of the little cart she’d driven from the Inn were several large blocks of clay she’d taken from various places along the banks of The Water. They were wrapped well in wet canvas, now, as she headed back to the Inn.

On the seat beside her sat Granny Oldbuck, her gnarled hands resting on the knob of her yew-wood cane. Granny’s dark eyes flitted about at the passing scenery. Her face held a look of satisfaction as she nodded at the old familiar landmarks and at the new crops just springing up in the fields. ‘Just let me off here, dear,’ she said to Zimzi, as they neared the Inn’s front door. ‘I’ve got some business with Vinca. That, and a taste for a wee mug of the new stout.’

‘Oh, let me take you round to the kitchen door,’ said Zimzi, laughing as Granny finished speaking. ‘Cook’s bound to be in there at this time of day, thinking about the supper meal and all.’

Derufin and his companion were nowhere to be seen as they passed the woodshed. The door was propped open, revelaing the work that had been done. Zimzi arched her brows and shook her head knowingly. ‘I’m betting you’ll find him with a mug in his one hand and a sandwich in the other if you go into the common room.’

‘Oh, aye, and isn’t he a fine figure of a man you’ve got, dear. Needs his victuals to keep up his strength.’ She looked at the wood piled in the shed. ‘Been busy today, I see.’

Zimzi pulled the cart up near the back step and got down. She came round quickly to Granny’s side, lending the older Hobbit a hand to steady herself as she got down. ‘If you see Derufin in there, Granny, will you tell him I’ve come back early?’ She held the door open as Granny entered the kitchen, then stepped quickly back to the cart. She wanted to get to the cottage to store the clay in a cool place.