[Primrose Bolger]

‘That’s it?’ asked Ginger, leading Artifondo round to the deliveryman’s entrance at the back of the kitchen. ‘I think she’s expecting you to bring your cart with you, with the artichokes in it.’ She looked at him in a questioning way. ‘We don’t often have merchants come to the Inn with nothing for us to buy.’

She hurried him along, hoping he wouldn’t fall over as he followed after. He seemed like some young pony whose legs weren’t all working the way they should.

Two steps and they were on the porch at the kitchen’s back door. Ginger waited as he mounted the steps and brushed himself off a little and straightened his vest. ‘Her name is Miz Bunce, by the way,’ she reminded him before they entered the kitchen proper.

‘Well, here he is Cook.’ Ginger took him by the elbow and moved him forward. ‘Master Artifondo Dwellover . . .’ She rolled her eyes and nodded toward the rather large thistle in his hands. ‘ . . . and his artichoke.’