The old woman hobbled off to fetch some more bowls and spoons from a shelf stacked precariously high with bags of flour and beans, twigs and sheaves of dried herbs, cracked earthenware jars and sagging baskets.
‘Let me help you.’ Olwen hurried over, reaching up to the shelf for her, while Elined and the others sank down on the wooden bench beside the table and eyed the cooking-pot ravenously.
The farmer did not return for the meal, but the herd boy came in and sat down at the table, his hands still grimy and his boots still muddy from the fields. He fixed his eyes instantly on Elined and did not look away from her all the time he was shovelling broth into his mouth. The two little girls ate fast and timidly, as though they half expected their food to be snatched away from them, and glanc
