[piosenniel]

The eyes of those at the table were round as saucers, but none disputed this seeming lie to the big man’s face. And besides, wasn’t he buying them a round of drinks? Perhaps the hospitable offer could be stretched out a bit.

One of the bolder fellows, Madoc Gamwich, poured the man a drink from the pitcher Cook had set down on the table. ‘Supposing you just tell us about that, sir,’ he said, pushing the mug toward Benat. ‘We’d like to hear your tale.’ Maddy, as he was called, made introductions about the table, then settled back comfortably in his chair as Benat fiddled with his pipe. Minto made it back from the kitchen looking a bit damp about the ears. He glanced at Benat, then raised his brows to his companions.

‘Master Benat, here,’ said Maddy by way of explanation, ‘was just settling in to tell us his story about the war that was really just a big battle and how his Grandda fought in it.’

‘Now that’s more like it – a battle and no fancy-schmancy treasure hordes with dragons and such,’ said Minto, reaching for a drink of his own.

Maddy laughed, looking round to those at the table. ‘He’d just begun, Master Benat had,’ Maddy said. ‘Seems his Grandda came as a bear!’

Minto choked on his first gulp, spilling it down his shirt once again. Cullen raised his head from where he’d lain down on the floor and looked at the Hobbit hopefully.