[Envinyatar]

Sakal grinned at the Innkeeper. ‘Oh, he is quite safe, I assure you. Cook has him in hand.’ He winked at Aman as they turned up the small worn track to the kitchen’s back door. ‘He is sleeping off the . . . small . . . . party we had last night. And Cook has dosed him with willowbark tea, I think . . . hoping to settle his stomach, steady his legs, and return the size of his aching head to normal. And all before my sister catches wind of what’s gone on.’

As they neared the door, they were stopped short by the sight of Merry and another Hobbit trying to maneuver a large metal trough through the entryway. They had it turned on its side, but the size of it made it unwieldy and it kept banging against the door frame. Sakal excused himself from Aman and went to help. He took one end while the Hobbits took the other and with a few groans and grunts and scraped fingers they got it through the door and into the kitchen. Aman stepped through after them, watching as the three sat it down near the stove under the direction of Cook.

‘Planning on making a little home brew for the party, Miz Bunce,’ asked Sakal, his brows raised questioningly.

Cook glared at him and told him she wanted no more talk about drinking and such at the moment. Instead she directed him and the two Hobbits to start fetching buckets of water for the rather large pot she had already started over the cook-hearth fire. She called for Buttercup to fetch a stack of towels and a sturdy scrub brush . . . and, oh, yes, one of the large bars of soap from the closet. ‘And the rest of you,’ said Cook, nodding at the others in the kitchen, ‘if you don’t mind can you please take your food and drink to the Common Room, or better yet outdoors where the party will be. I have some work to be done.’

Aman watched as the others exited the room, and Cook locked the door behind them. Curious, she dared a question. ‘Just what are you planning on doing with the tub and the water, Miz Bunce?’

Cook motioned for Sakal, and his brother who’d been summoned to the kitchen by Ruby, to follow her into her room. ‘Well, Miz Aman, I plan on getting that featherbrained fellow lying in there on my bed cleaned up and brought round. He stinks to high heavens and his stubble looks as if it could nick a Dwarf axe. Best you leave us to it. But there is one thing you could do if you would. Go back to his room in the stable and ferret out the nice clothes, suitable clothes, he was planning on wearing this afternoon.’ She disappeared into her room, followed by the two brothers. Aman heard her call out as she did so. ‘Oh, and lock the door, dear, on your way out . . .’