[Envinyatar]

Derufin drew the conversation round to the subject of the Spring Faire. It was only a few weeks away. He’d been to one of them in the Shire, and truth be told, it was much like the small ones held yearly in his own small village. First lambs were shown off; pies from the last of the past year’s dried fruits; quilts and weavings done over the long winter months were brought out – all to be oohed and aahed over by friends and neighbors.

And the contests, of course. Out of doors, knife throwing, and archery, and slings. The great logs needed to be cut down to size and who could do it the most quickly. Inside, darts and the ever present ‘Shove Ha’penny’ game.

Last, and most fun, was the great tug-of-war game played over a fair-sized mudpuddle made especially for it on the Inn’s grounds. Derufin had been on the loosing side last year, and it was his desire to see his ‘foes’ streaked with mud this year.

‘You’ll stay, won’t you?’ he asked Anyopâ. ‘By the time we’re through with the wood that needs chopped and hauled and stacked, your muscles will be in grand shape. In fact, I’ll claim you for my team right now . . .’