I have to say that after a very heavy week with the world going mad and bad as well increasing in stupid, it does an old Knight good to be reminded that there is lightness, brightness and gaity (in the old and proper sense) around.
And it was a beautiful day on the mountain too.
"Can we play for you, Sire", the little one breathed. "Tomorrow Night, in the Tavern?"
By the Lord Harry, Pretty girls", says I, "strut thy stuff and let me see. And tell me about yourselves."
In a jiffy they were out of their dusty mountain walking boots and jeans and into smart little frocks.
What could I say. I booked them. I negotiated, of course. Food and Grace, for song and beauty.
So tomorrow evening the Tavern will be alive with the sound of these delightful girls.
They told me more.
Don't little ones grow up so fast.
I let them get on with their rehearsals and wander around the grounds.
I have not heard that for a while.
A few male voices could be blended with these girls quite nicely. I may suggest that to some Monks I know.
Still, the girls are far nicer to look at as well as listen to, so......
Much to do to get everything ready for the concert. If it is a pleasant evening (tho' winter here) they may get to play to the aurora. With snow flakes perhaps.
They will sing for their Grace and give of theirs.