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Dick looked hopeless. "If you think you can find anyway to help, then by all means do so," he said, spreading his hands wide. He sighed, slumping visibly.
"Food," he said then, bringing himself to attention slowly. "Food! Of course!" He was the lively innkeeper again suddenly. "I'm [i]so]/i] sorry. I should have thought of that myself. Rowan! Rowan, by heaven, where do the girls get to when you need them? Ro - oh, there you are. Is there something hot in the kitchen?"
"Yes, we've got some bread just fresh out of the oven along with a new baked pie, and we've got steaks we can put on the grill as soon as -"
"There, you see," Dick said, turning to Mithalwen. "Make your order and they'll fix you up admireably. After a good lunch, I'm sure you all will be able to think of a way to help us find our cook."
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