[Pivli]

Violet and Vinca had taken their glasses of dandelion wine with them as they’d gone to inspect Cook’s herb garden. Vinca, it seemed had gotten a few unusual plants from a young woman passing through from Breeland. And Violet, whose own little herb-knot gardens were her bride and joy had inquired if she might see them. Her curiosity was piqued at the thought of new plants and she was already planning how she might cajole Vinca out of a cutting or two.

They were bent over a rather common looking little plant which looked much like a spiky leaved sort of hen-and-chickens; Violet leaning on her cane to steady herself. She frowned, wondering at the name it had been given. “Hullo Verra”, Vinca had said, adding it was good for healing wounds, especially burns. Vinca snapped off the end of a tall, succulent leaf, showing her the thick, clear gel that oozed out.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of loud male voices coming from round the Inn. As fast as feet and cane could take them they hurried round to the side of the Inn and peered into the front yard – where a curious sight surprised them.

Casks of beer, mugs in disarray, and any number of local lads scurrying about as if in a competition.