There’s a saying often repeated in these parts: things come in threes. It was certainly the case on Nerian and Eawynn’s hand-binding day. Apart from the official love-match, two other pleasant surprises awaited me that evening. Nerian’s mother, an exemplary cook, devoted herself as never before to ensuring everything was perfect for her son and his bride. The table groaned under bowls of beans and barley flavoured with mint and thyme, followed by mixed platters of roasted swine, wild fowls, hare and eels. All this we washed down with a choice of ale, cider or mead. The room resounded to laughter, voices raised in merriment and repeated toasts to the couple.
things come in threes. Then came the first of the surprises, the admirable cook silenced everybody by approaching the table with her
