|
Snaveling was caught off guard by Aman’s request for help with the ale, but he recovered quickly enough that he doubted anyone noticed. He could tell that Aman saw much more than she pretended, but he felt confident that she would not interfere with Toby’s fiction – not that it had been all that convincing, really. Snaveling knew the debt of gratitude he owed the hobbit, and had they been alone he would have clasped the little fellow to his bosom. As it was, he had to content himself with a meaningful look. “Yes,” he said to Aman, “I’d be happy to help with the ale.” The sentence, coming from him, sounded odd even to his ears. Together the Man and the Innkeeper moved to the cellar. At first, both Toby and Roa moved to follow, but Snaveling waved them off saying that he was sure he and Aman could handle the barrel themselves. In truth, one look at Toby was all anyone needed to see that in his state, stairs were not a good idea – as for Roa, Snaveling was still not entirely ready to face her yet, so soon after his shaming before Toby. As an after-thought, Snaveling turned to Pimpernel and asked him to go out to the tailor and bid him wait until Snaveling were done here. The hobbit lad nodded once and ran out the door.
For the third time since Snaveling had been at the Inn, and for the second time that night, he descended the steep stairs into the cellar. He was relieved, when he got to the bottom, to see that the wreckage he had wrought the last time he was here had been cleared away, although there remained a faint stain of wine on the floor. Aman led the way toward the barrels, but when they neared them she stopped and turned to face him. For a moment she regarded him in the dim light cast by the solitary lantern. Before she could speak, Snaveling said, “You did not bring me here simply to help with the ale, did you my Lady.” It was not a question. Aman remained silent, but Snaveling could tell that he was right. The noise of the merry makers came through the thick floorboards above their heads and settled to the floor like the dust from the shuddering beams.
|