Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 16
Ren

~

Ike reached out with a twinkle in his eye, a smirk on his face, and stroked my belly. He’s the only bull sibling who’s dared to do that. How can Torc and Asr be so—squeamish?

“Toy?” he asked softly. A joke he hadn’t leveraged in years.

“No. No toy,” I answered with a grin.

“Ya namin’ him after me?” Ike asked. “Ya should.”

“Not in this lifetime. I wouldn’t take the chance of bringin’ a soul into this world as crazy and mischievous as ya.”

“But I’m a lot of fun,” Ike said. “I remember ya sayin’ that when ya thought I wasn’t listenin’.”

“Never did, ya lyin’ booger. Ya always had me so busy I never had time for a free thought, or conversation.”

“Ya talk so mean, but I know I’m yar favorite, as this one will be mine.” Ike held his hand on my distended tummy, I think hopin’ for a chance kick from his future pal.

“I’ll probably never let ya meet her.”

“Him,” Ike said.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I feel it’s a little hen.” Nope. Not a chance. Has to be a stinkin’ bull, considerin’ how big he is.

“As big as this belly is?” Ike squawked. “I don’t think so. He’ll be a meaningful brute, and get the pick of Iza’s first clutch.” He still hadn’t removed his hand. Stared down at my belly as though I might deliver any moment.

“Ya let Iza hear ya talk about a clutch of hers like it’s some commodity, and ya and Taiz’lin will find yarselves run out of the Valley after all. If not pieces of ya dumped for the pike.”

“Everyone is so afraid of queens. So they’re four times as big as a bull, they flutter their wings like ’em, squat in the grass like ’em. Those bullies need to grow a pair.” He grinned, finally droppin’ his hand.

“Yeah, well every time I see ya walk near her since ya brought Taiz’lin to the Hamlet, I expect her to take yar head off. Ya better start treatin’ her with a little more respect.”

“I’ll let Taiz’lin, Tir, and his siblings cow to her. Not the sort of thin’ I do.”

“Yar stubborn nature is gonna get ya killed. Maybe not by a dragon, but some sort that doesn’t have the sense of humor of an ogre.” I shook the shirt I was takin’ off the clothes line at him, as though it was a switch, collected to fan his behind. So many times I would have liked to fan his butt. Then he’d shoot that goofy grin at me.

“I think I’m teachin’ that queen a sense of humor,” Ike said, grinnin’.

“Not likely. I see her pause. Lucas must do some awfully serious mental politickin’ to keep ya safe.”

“He knows who’ll watch his back,” he said.

“Ya mean, who’ll be with him to play a prank? Ya’ve been an awful influence on that fine human.”

“Who’s to say he wasn’t the one causin’ all the ruckus all those times?”

I turned toward the clothes line to hide my face. I thought of the time they removed the tools from Coedwig’s box and replaced them with twelve inch salamanders. ’Bout made the ancient old goat spit up his heart, it did. Or the time they set the sun-bleached elk skull under the sheet on Miss Pazeta’s massage table. Ike took a clubbin’ with a broomstick, because Lucas could run a lot faster. Pazeta never would have caught Ike, if he hadn’t been laughin’ so hard.

“So what name is Angus leanin’ toward?” my stinkin’ bull sibling asked.

“DontbelikeIke is his favorite, I think.”

“An awful lot of syllables for an ogreling. It’s gonna irk the elders, doncha think? What did I ever do to Angus anyway?” He scrunched up his face.

“Maybe the time ya put the hot coals under his feet when he and I were sittin’ on the boardwalk.”

“No fair. I couldn’t have been more than four then. Ya know that was on Lucas.”

“Ha,” I snorted. “He might have accomplished it, but it was yar idea, I know it. Lucas wasn’t yet that devious. It took a couple more years of bein’ around ya, to get so.” Or it could have been the time ya threw stones at Angus, when ya were hidden in the forest. Or the time ya cut his hair when he napped on the pier. Or the time ya looped ropes around his ankles from underneath the boardwalk and trapped him there for an hour until someone finally came to cut him free. It took Angus a long time to learn not to nap on the boardwalk.

I started to wonder if he was worthy of matin’.

“Remember the time we wrote in chalk, ‘Help me I’m lost’ on the back of his vest? It would have taken him a year to find it if ya didn’t tell him.”

“It took him the better part of a week to get all the white out of the leather.” I giggled. “Ya two were evil to my Angus.”

“Worse to that other one. But he hung in there.”

I looked down at the rocky shore where Taiz’lin was sprawled out, sunnin’. Was just a matter of time until Ike found his own dragon, with all the time he spent with Iza and Lucas. Odd he never latched on to Tae or Kyn. That was probably a little too close to home for the two, considerin’ Ike is so close to their hen sibling. Gettin’ away from a queen is wise for any bull. The female sort of dragon can be mean.

Taiz’lin is such a gentle sort. Perfect to balance Ike’s rough edges, maybe. He even seemed to take a little of the snootiness out of Iza, just hangin’ out in the Hamlet.

I looked back at Ike, pluckin’ clothes off the line and half-foldin’ them before droppin’ them in the basket, so they unfurled enough to look as though they fell off the line on their own. Odd how he can focus on some thin’s, like the bows he spends a month on each, while otherwise showin’ not the least gentleness. Except with lil’ Gladys. He can sit for an hour listenin’ to the wisp-of-a-thing without takin’ his eyes off her. Watchin’ him has drawn a tear from me.

Ike and Lucas. A strange pair. Seven years difference in their ages. Ike was only a pudgy four-year-old when he latched onto the human. At twelve, he was already three-heads taller than his friend, with shoulders twice as broad. Very clear early on, Ike was gonna be a hunk of an ogre bull. Much bigger than either of his bull siblings, and never took a bit of lip off of ’em. Maybe that’s why Aedwin is showin’ no interest in either Torc or Asr. I can understand. I love the two, but the youngest of the three bull siblings is a looker and a stud, with too much personality. Ike’s two or three years younger than Aedwin, but perhaps she sees that as no obstacle. She may well be a very intelligent ogre hen.

“Ahhhhhh.” I grabbed my sides. That was a bad one.

“Do I go off for Gladys?” Ike asked.

I stood waitin’ to see if there would be another contraction. A warm sensation washed down my legs.

“Leapin’ liver lilies,” Ike blurted, backin’ away. “That’s gross.”

“Oh, shut up,” I hissed. “Guess ya and Angus get to finish bringin’ in the clothes.”

Ike turned and ran for Taiz’lin. The dragon rose, flittin’ his wings in a panic as though he was bein’ charged by a great big ole brown bear. Obviously Ike was mentally shoutin’ at him. Taiz’lin’s head swayed as if caught in a stiff wind. Dragons can look so silly.

“I’m fine, Ike, no need to help me to the porch.” I shook my head as Taiz’lin launched before Ike settled securely on his shoulders. My bull sibling would be lucky not to end up in the middle of the Lake.

I heard Angus’ runnin’ steps on the porch. Almost wished he’d continued to go about his chores, instead of stickin’ near, waitin’ for the little one. Was drivin’ me nuts. He stood dumbly at the railin’ watchin’ Ike and Taiz’lin’s antics, as the two struggled to get together.

Might as well finish collectin’ the rest of the clothes. Those two will never think to do it. Another ugly pain rushed through me, makin’ me bend over. When it subsided a tad, I quickly grabbed at the remainin’ shirts and thin’s. Another pang hit.

“Ah. Such an inconvenience,” I muttered, pickin’ up the basket and waddlin’ toward the house.

I was barely at the front steps when I realized Gladys wasn’t gonna make it in time. Good thin’ hens have been performin’ the task for an eternity without a midmate.

“Angus! Come give me a hand up the stairs. She’s comin’. Ahhhhh. Oh no, hold on baby. Creepin’ cattle whompers!”

“It took hours for Ike, and he was Mama’s fourth.”

It all came out as a single word as I started to crumple to the ground. Angus caught me and had me on the way into the house, but I would never make it to the bedroom.

“Let me down! Let me down!” I screamed.

The tyke’s an impatient one. The floor’s a dandy place to begin life, for him. Him! Ike’s gonna be pleased. That stinkin’ booger.

~

“Tain.”

“Vir.”

“Kayt.”

“Tain.”

“Ya already said that one,” Angus said.

“Zir?”

“Sal?”

“Tain.”

“Ya must like that one.” Angus closed one eye at him.

“Ort?”

“Lod?”

“Rill?”

I pursed my lips. “Ya’ve given this a lot of thought, I see.”

“Someone had to.” Ike shook his head and threw his hands in the air in melodramatic frustration. “Ya two were only comin’ up with hen names. Remember. I knew it was gonna be a bull. Taiz’lin was certain of it. When have ya ever heard of a dragon bein’ wrong?”

“He selected ya, didn’t he?” Angus offered with a straight face.

“Fine. Besides that?”

“Sal isn’t a bad name,” Angus said.

“Sal’s the name of a store marm. Good if ya want a son who wears an apron.” Ike shook his head. His eyes narrowed in tremendous earnest. “Now, Tain is a proper, masculine name. Future clan leader extraordinaire.”

“Don’t think he’ll grow up to be a warrior leader,” I said. Think that’s the origin of the name. Didn’t want to admit to my stinkin’ sibling that I was rather fond of the name Tain, too. Be worthwhile to tease him for a while. How long could I put off namin’ the tyke? I offered a dozen gentle-soundin’ names I claimed to like. Very much enjoyed his squirmin’. He deserves so much grief for what he put me through.

“Ike and Tain. Has a good sound to it,” he said.

“Ren and Rill sounds even better,” I countered.

He growled. It didn’t sound feigned. It was a primordial sound. “My turn,” he said angrily, reachin’ for the baby.

Angus resisted long enough to ensure Ike was appropriately irritated. Ike strode out of the room with a huge grin splittin’ his tusks, the baby in his arms.

“Ya follow Booger,” I told Angus. “Let’s ensure the baby sees a day or two before he goes a dragon ridin’.”

Angus sat smilin’ for a moment before fear washed over his face. He lurched out of the chair to catch up with Ike. I eased out of bed and Gladys frowned.

“I’m no wimpy human,” I said, wavin’ a lazy hand at Gladys. I raised my snout in the air in a show of pride. “Besides, got dinner to make.”

I knew Gladys wouldn’t hear of it, but it was fun to tease her. I don’t mind takin’ advantage of a situation for a day or so. I’d been carryin’ a wild, kickin’ ogreling for fourteen months. Deserved a rest. “So ya’re leanin’ toward Rill?” Gladys asked.

The woman followed me on my heels out to the front room. We watched Ike showin’ the baby off to Taiz’lin. I could see the dragon’s eyes whirlin’ from here. The creature’s head swam back and forth in excitement. Prolly came from Ike. Rider and dragon share a brain and a heart. More like half a brain. One mountain-sized heart.

“Certainly not Rill,” I finally answered. “Ike picked a good favorite. I love the name Tain too. But he has to do some rigorous politickin’ the next day or so. He’s gonna be insufferable as it is. Imagine the pompousness of pickin’ the youngling’s name. I’ll make him pay.”

“If ya can keep Ike in the Hamlet, I think he’s gonna be a very dotin’ uncle.”

I nodded. “No doubt he’ll do his wanderin’ from time to time. But Tain is only half what will keep him here.”

Gladys turned to face me. Her brow turned down.

“Iza, silly,” I said. “And Taiz’lin.”

“Iza? Taiz’lin? Nonsense.” Gladys shook her head. “That queen ignores every friendly gesture that bull offers her.”

“She’s a queen. How else would ya expect her to act?”

“Not with a threat to rip the bull’s head off.”

I giggled. “I threaten to geld Angus every time he fails to properly guess what I want. Ya humans make it too easy for yar bulls—men folk.”

~