Jenny: Red Glass Beads

"You made the cloth earlier in the year, didn't you?" Artos was rubbing his thigh, craned round in his chair to ease his weight off one side. "Did any of the cotswolds shipments come up?"

Jason said, "Tucker was busy and busy earlier this year with the cloth. We turned out quite a load; midsummer the merchants came through and we bundled a lot off on them."

"My uncle was telling me that. Old Hunno must have told him."

The Guttersnipe looked up, cupping the little blue chicory-flowers in her hands. Jason sat with his long legs pulled up on a rung, arms draped across his knees, a thoughtful smile on his face. "One of the merchants had a handful of red glass beads. I wanted to see if I could set them in a belt, maybe when life slows down a bit during the winter months."

"Maybe it will snow this year," said the Guttersnipe. Caleb chuckled and stoked his harp. Then, realizing it was relatively quiet and peaceful, she looked beyond him and around, quizzical, missing Domitia. She caught sight of the big Irish bull in the corner, looking back at her as quizzically. She wondered how long he had been watching. Turning on her cushion, she called across to him, "Where is Domitia?"