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Despite the worries of the day, Ruthven lost not a moment in cackling at the brave words of the great would-be heroes, Harreld and Garreth, Falco and Eodwine. She laughed so hard that Gudryn gave her the strangest look, for the old woman had not seemed to take fear and concern at her mention of Rand, but had doubled the intensity of her laughter.
"Sooth, Gudryn, you are a clever wench. You know how to wind these lads up."
"What, I? Pray tell what do you mean?" inquired the lass indignitly.
Luckly all were saved from Harreld's and Falco's rising to the defense of the dear newly adopted lass by Garreth's question about Saeryn and the sudden arrival of the Innkeeper, sailing through the same door as he was meaning to exit. Not for the first time was Bethberry thankful she had got rid of the swinging door.
"A meal we must have! Let Frodides prepare stews and ragouts and pies and pastries enough to ward against the imbibing of any amount of ale!" Garreth sputtered but she shoved another tankard in his hand and foam slopped against him, provoking a lonely cry from him at the loss of even a small amount of the golden brew.
"Gudryn, who was it who claimed some skill in healing? Was it you or the other lass? It would appear we shall be busy tonight."
Ruthven interjected, "Of the many means of memory loss, some might be less objectionable than others. And more treatable."
Bethberry looked with some exasperation at her friend. "At a time like this, do we need a comedienne?
"Am I the party to whom you are addressing?" replied Ruthven, her eyes twinkling as she took a sip herself from her tankard.
Bethberry thought it best to ignore her friend in this state and turned to Gudryn. "Lass, can you take time out from celebrating your recent discovery of family to take some clothes to Saeryn?"
Four noble young lads immediately stood up and volunteered in the place of Gudryn, but this only caused Ruthven to hoot and hollar louder and slap her thighs.
At this point, a voice could be heard crying from the front door: "Is there a healer in the house?"
Ruthven could not contain herself. She yelled back, "Nobody here but us chickens." She collapsed in a pile of giddy laughter while black clouds of indignation swept over the twins' faces.
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