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Tolly took the instruction in stride. Take the water out to the fellow with the red-blonde hair. Man from out Bree way Rowan thought. No, he didn’t want ale, she’d said.
He stopped by the ale cask and drew himself another mug of the Perch’s finest. And what the heck, he thought, why not offer another to the man he was bringing the little jug of water. What man didn’t like ale and wouldn’t really want it over some mug of plain well-water.
‘Reginald, isn’t it?’ he asked, setting the water jug and mug down on the table. ‘Miz Rowan asked me to bring it out to you.’ He set the mug of ale next to the water and slid it closer to the man. ‘Thought you might like a drink of this, too. Goes good with those beans Cook has done up for lunch.’
‘I’m Tolly, Tolly Bramble from Willowbottom. Mind if I sit down with you and drink my own mug with you?’ He looked at Reginald and then back toward the kitchen. ‘Good to be out here with a chance to sit and sip and relax a bit. Those women in the back always have something for a fellow to do if it looks like your getting too settled back.’
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