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Rowan and the dragon hunters
Rowan crouched down between the two boys, her brown eyes glinting with merriment. ‘Well, which of you brave lads is going in after him?’ she asked, her voice pitched low. ‘He’s our singer, you know. And we’ll be needing him soon.’ She nodded her head to the little stage across the room. ‘The fellow over there. Gil, isn’t it? I can see him waving to us.’
She reached into one of the pockets in her vest and handed each of them a small silver bell. They tinkled merrily as she laid one in each boy’s hand. ‘A traveling tinker from the Blue Mountains gave them to me. He said the Dwarves there make them to scare off the little dragons that still haunt the deeper tunnels. Just hold them out before you and jingle them as you hunt for Emlin.’
‘Go on now,’ she urged them, pointing to the shadows beneath the long table. ‘Bring him back to us!’
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But Huan the hound was true of heart, and the love of Lúthien had fallen upon him in the first hour of their meeting; and he grieved at her captivity . . .
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