[Arry]

Woody and Hanson head home

Gil was waiting at one of the tables in the common room, just as he’d promised. Willy and Hanson came tearing out of the schoolroom, their slates in hand. Hanson climbed up onto a chair near Gill and surveyed what his Uncle had been snacking on. Fresh, crusty bread and slices of good Shire cheddar. Along with a mug of ale.

‘The cheese and bread, you can help yourself to,’ Gil said, ruffling his nephews curls. ‘But your Ma would skin me if you come home smelling of ale.’ He motioned for a server and asked for two mugs of cider.

Woody sat opposite Hanson and took a slice of bread and some cheese for himself. He laid his slate in front of Gil, showing him the picture of the party tree he’d drawn. Both the boys chattered on about what they had learned that day, ending with the recitation of what they could remember of the new song the class was writing for the Spring Faire.

‘Master Hearpwine is helping us with it,’ Hanson said in a muffled voice, his words coming round a large mouthful of cheese. ‘What are you doing for the Faire?’ he asked, swallowing it down with a gulp of cider.

‘The lads and I are putting on a puppet show for one thing. Complete with music and all. We haven’t quite figured out a story yet, though.’ Gil brushed away a smear of bread and butter crumbs from Hanson’s cheek.

‘Hey, what about the story of Mister Bilbo and the Dragon?’ offered Woody. ‘That would be exciting, don’t you think?’ Hanson clapped his hands, eyes shining, and agreed with his older brother.

‘Not a bad idea,’ said Gil, smiling at the enthusiastic two. ‘Maybe your class could help make some of the props for it. Bright shiny stones for jewels, and a few little boxes painted up to look like treasure chests . . .’

Hanson’s eyes went wide at the thought of helping. ‘And what about skellytons?’ he asked. Woody nodded his head and grinned at the idea. ‘There must have been some in the cave from people the dragon killed. I’ll bet I could draw up some good ones.’

Gil and the boys finished their snack, all the while making plans for the play. He promised to let them know tomorrow what Tomlin and Fallon and Ferrin thought of the idea. Once done, the boys gathered up their cloaks and slates and followed Gil to the cart tied in the shade of the Inn’s oak tree. They were quiet for the most part on the short trip home. It had been a long day and what with the food and cider, they were soon drowsing on the seat of the cart, their little heads resting heavily on Gil’s thighs.