[Arry]

Willem was the first of the Hobbits down the stairs to the common room. ‘Bring us a plate of buns and cheese and eggs, if they have them,’ said Madoc from beneath his layers of quilts. ‘And tea, hot tea and plenty of it with honey.’ He snuggled down deep into his nest, mumbling how it was too cold to get up yet.

‘And sausages!’ came Andwise’s voice. ‘Or at least some rashers of bacon.’ His voice was less loud in its requests. He’d tipped a few too many cups las evening, and his head pounded with the effort of too much movement or too loud noises. They’d both been snoring again by the time Willem had finished tucking his shirt into his breeches and ran his fingers as a comb through his hair.

Standing on the last stair, Willem looked about the room. There, near the fire, was the old woman who’d told that wonderful story. She hadn’t moved an inch, he thought, since last he’d seen her.

‘Granny,’ he said, coming to stand at the edge of the small table on which her plate of food had been set. ‘I just wanted to thank you for the tale you told last night.’ He pulled out a chair and sidled onto it, his legs swinging freely off the ground. I hope you don’t mind me sitting here with you. The fire is nice and warm, feels good against my feet.’

He eyed her heaping plate of food, and his belly began to grumble quite loudly. It was Madoc who carried their coin, and he chided himself for forgetting to get some from the little leather pouch Madoc had left on the chest in their room.