[Nurumaiel]

Gomen lingered about the table where the tales were being told, listening with wide eyes, full to the brim with wonder and excitement. His heart, keen to feel adventure and song, beat quicker, and he drew nearer and nearer to the table, hoping to catch the words better. The tale-telling company seemed such a jolly one, and he supposed they were all friends. Maybe Bethberry, too, was very familiar with these people. He rather wished he could make friends with them, too. He took another step closer, and he was almost to the table.

"Gomen, dearie!" came the call from the kitchen, and he sprang away, trying not to laugh at himself. He was like a little moth, drawn to the candle, except his heart and mind were caught by the story-telling. Of course he should have been quite awkward in their company, knowing none of them but Bethberry. He preferred more than anything to just sit near a table and listen, but he did not like to partake in the conversation, unless it was with his Uncle Liornung or Hearpwine.

Frodides was in the kitchen, where she usually was, and while she looked older, she was just as beautiful. That fleeting beauty of youth was gone, true, but it was replaced with the beauty that comes to a woman's face when she devotes her life to the little people, that special beauty can only be seen in a mother. Many strands of grey were in the golden hair tied at her neck, and there were lines of care on her face, but also lines of laughter and joy, and her eyes shone with maternal fondness as she looked at her eldest son.

"Gomen, love, go to the stable and tell your father to come in soon, for dinner is almost ready, and it is growing dark."

"Yes, Mamma," said Gomen, and out he went, into that fine evening air of the summer. Deman and Fierlan were just outside the stable, playing with their make-believe swords, and when they heard dinner was almost ready, they gave cries of delight and pattered away on their little feet, anxious not to miss anything. Mereflod and Motan were in the garden, picking a few flowers and kissing the rest. Gomen paused to listen to them for a moment, for their sweet little minds had decided that they were the mother flowers and those dwelling in the garden were their children, and they were tucking them into bed. Gomen thought it was beautiful, and wondered if it could ever be put into verse.

Leofan apparently knew that dinnertime was drawing nigh, for he was just finishing up his work, and he called upon Gomen's assistance. In silence they gave the horses their second feed of the day and prepared things for the night, but when they were finished Leofan did not leave. Rather, he put his shoulder to one of the walls and leaned against it, thoughtfully looking at his son. And after a pause, he spoke, saying: "You're a very good help in the stable, son. It is very fine for a man growing old to have a little assistance so he will not break his back."

"It was naught by my pleasure," said Gomen.

Leofan was silent for a moment more, but before he spoke again he sighed a little. "You're quite interested in the trade of your uncle, aren't you? Music and singing, and story-telling?"

"Yes," said Gomen, with a little nod of assent.

"I thought as much." He sighed again, and folded his arms. "I've been trying to work it out in my mind. I don't want to hinder you in doing what you will, saving that it is not a wrong choice of life, but I do need help in the stable. I'm getting older, and it becomes harder to work. I don't want to fail Bethberry and Aylwen in my task, but I can't do it alone."

Gomen bowed his head and said, very lowly, "You know I'll help you, Father."

"Yes, I do know," said Leofan, "but that doesn't mean I want you to. I don't want you to if it will make trouble for you, but I do need you to. So, listen, this is what I've thought of: you will stay and help me in the stable, but at the same time you will learn what you need to know to become a minstrel. Your uncle will be back for the winter, I think. He says he needs some place to stay while the weather is cold and ill for travelling about. He'd be more than happy to instruct you, I think, and at the same time you can help me with my work. I think you will learn better if you have to do something not particularly pleasing to you, and when you are at last on the path of life you have chosen it will seem sweeter because of what you had to do for it. It will strengthen you in selflessness too, and when you are old you can recall how you made your training to be a minstrel something very worthwhile, because you gave up some of your pleasures of it to help your aged father and your family."

What Gomen was thinking could not be said, but his eyes were twinkling when he looked up again. "You aren't so old yet, Papa," he said. "But I'll break my back if it will spare yours."

"Good lad that you are," said Leofan, and together they went from the stable. Motan was in her father's arms in a moment, saying: "Ah you done 'orkin' in the sta'le, Papa?"

"Yes, darling, so come back to the Inn and have dinner with me," said Leofan, and he kissed her bonny gold hair.