[Arry]

‘Well, now, just let me tell you ‘bout the shivaree . . .’

Ferdy’s head snapped round at the sound of his Da’s voice . . . his loud voice . . . coming from somewhere across the room . . .

Tomlin and Gil, sitting across from Ferdy in one of the Dragon’s back booths, nudged each other and pointed toward the table where Andwise sat. ‘That can’t be your Da,’ Gil whispered across the table. Ferrin, who sat next to Ferdy, kicked Gil in the ankle.

It was Fallon, just come from lingering near the tap, who confirmed it was indeed Andwise. ‘Buttercup says he’s well into his third pint. Him and Mister Derufin. And he keeps topping off his mug from the pitcher she left on the table.’

All five of the lads now craned their necks outside the confines of the low walled booth to see what Ferdy’s Da was doing . . .

---------

Andwise took a pull at his pint, then set the mug carefully down on the table. His fingers were feeling a bit numb, as were his lips, he noted. He leaned back in his chair, attempting to cross his left leg over his right, but his legs had developed a will of their own. They seemed to have turned all noodley and slippery, too. Neither would stay crossed no matter which one he chose to swing over the other.

Derufin’s face, in focus just moments before, now seemed to have split into two, no, make that three, grinning visages. Andwise blinked his eyes several times trying to get the images to align. He leaned forward, his forearms on the table. ‘Begging your pardon,’ he said slowly, carefully enunciating each word. ‘I did intend to tell you about the shivaree. But something’s gone quite wrong. Some effect of the rainstorm I believe . . . shaking the Inn quite fiercely, don’t you think? Everything’s got all wobbly . . .’

He trailed off and was about to slip from his chair when a pair of hands shored him up and a familiar voice spoke close to his ear. ‘Da, you’ve had too much to drink.’ Andwise looked up into the wavering face that hung over him. Closing one eye, he brought it into focus. ‘Too much you say . . .’ Ferdy bent down and got his arm round his Da. Gil propped up the Hobbit’s other side, while Tomlin ran out to bring round the cart.

The crowd in the Inn opened and shut behind the three Hobbits as they made their way to the door.

Fallon and Ferrin were about to follow, when Derufin called them back. ‘Something I can do?’ he asked nodding at the door. ‘Nay,’ said Ferrin, sitting down in the now vacant chair. ‘The Banks never did hold their ale too well. Ferdy’ll get him home and into bed. He’ll be alright tomorrow. Late, that is.’ Fallon nodded his head, taking one of the other chairs to the left of Ferrin. He picked up Andwise’s mug and finished off the last of the ale. Pouring himself another from the pitcher at the table, he offered a drink to Ferrin. ‘We heard him say something about the shivaree,’ he prompted Derufin. ‘Didn’t go into the plans for it did he, now?’ he asked casually, sounding the man out.