Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 17
Aedwin

~

I rubbed my hands together to get as much of the muck off as I could, before runnin’ to collect the reins of the Inn patrons who rode up. I take personal pride in gettin’ to them before the gnomes. I’m usually pretty muddy from my gardenin’, and more than a little rank since discoverin’ the tomatoes love dragon scat so much, so I’d given up the baggage-carryin’ to the gnomes, along with the better tip. They like that task so much anyway, why not. It would have been hard to deny them. They’re pretty stubborn. Would have fought me for the fun of it. The tip of a coin isn’t worth the grief. Besides, my hands are always muddy. Handlin’ mounts is one thin’. Proper bags, another.

“Good day, sirs,” I shouted. “Welcome to Black Lake Inn.”

The two bulls, men, nodded. Their eyes were glued on the Lake. I’m used to that. The human folk are never that interested in talkin’ to me anyway. I’m only the hired help, an ogre at that, but they could have afforded a polite nod all the same.

Gnomes arrived, fightin’ over who got to take in the saddle bags. The men watched the fightin’, entertained. The bags untied, the lucky gnomes ran madly for the Inn as the others disappeared.

“Strange lot,” the tall, distinguished human said softly, mostly to himself. He turned toward me—wow, acknowledgin’ my existence. “Last time I was here, I saw that beautiful queen dragon sunnin’ on the lawn a few times. Often with one of those little bulls. I was wondering. Does the queen stay about these parts often?”

Little—bulls!

My cheeks burned with irritation, to hear the bulls dismissed like that. Tae is as beautiful as Iza. For the humans to consider my friend’s brown color common is their loss.

“The queen lives across the Lake with her rider,” I said. “Their business doesn’t bring them over to the North Shore often,” I lied. Hope the snobbish man didn’t get the honor to even glimpse my Tae. Stuck up human.

He handed me a single copper continental as they turned for the Inn. Cheap, too. I spoke softly to the two mares before leadin’ them away. Their kind aren’t too keen of ogres to begin with, usually. Especially an ogre with such a strong scent of dragon. But these two lowered their heads submissively. I stroked their necks. They wore old marks from a crop. My stomach turned.

And they call ogres beasts.

~

The shadows long, and the air cooler, I made my way to the dorm to wash up and get into fresh clothes. Feet scat free if not scent free, I strode to the kitchen to help there, and to get my own dinner. The rumorin’ was as heated as ever. Sylvia spoke about “the handsome man” who checked in that afternoon, and I felt myself gettin’ angry all over again. Looks aren’t everythin’, I was thinkin’, when Eina spoke to me.

“Ya’ve been particularly quiet this evenin’, young one. Somethin’ on yar mind?”

I glanced over at the gossipin’ Sylvia and Gladys.

“My. Look at that expression,” Eina whispered. “Ya upset with Miss Sylvia for somethin’?”

“No, no,” I said in a rush. “Nothin’ like that.”

Eina pushed until I had to confess.

“Ah. Humans, at least some of them, put themselves on a pedestal they don’t deserve. They think Heaven and Earth revolve around their race. Most are as respectful as they have to be. Or at least, those I’ve met. Some are wonderful folk. Take Master Bick. He treats those ancient mares of his better than most parents treat their children.”

Eina grinned in that fashion more familiar to Sylvia and Gladys, than a troll. I smiled as I slurped up the last of my stew.

“Don’t allow anyone who doesn’t know any better make ya feel any less for who ya are. That goes for that dragon of yars too.”

“Ya look a little tired tonight,” I told the troll hen. “Why don’t ya go on? I can help Sylvia and Gladys plan the dinners for the next two days.”

“Yar a sweet dear. I do feel like I’m draggin’ my tail a little. Think I’ll take ya up on yar offer, and surprise Yoso. I may give him a heart attack or somethin’ though, returnin’ home so early.”

~

I hiked toward the loft later than my usual, the quarter moon not quite over the eastern peaks, so it was very dark under the canopy. Wish I had a troll’s eyes. But, the daytime glare drives them nutty.

Tae, Taiz’lin, Coedwig, and Ike all stood outside in the cold when I entered the little dell.

“Where’ve ya been,” Coedwig bellowed. “Doncha care ya had us all worried to death?”

“Ya must have been worried somethin’ awful, considerin’ the sun is down and ya’re not asleep, Mama,” I called to him.

“Yar attempt at humor, not appreciated,” the dwarf mumbled. He turned and stomped inside.

“I wasn’t worried,” Ike said. “Ya’re too ornery to trip in the dark.”

“Ya two are becomin’ quite the regulars around here,” I said.

“Tir snores too much,” Taiz’lin said.

“One barn, two dragons,” Ike mumbled. “Twenty nanny goats with babes. Not enough room.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” I said. “But when ya visit, Taiz’lin and Tae make it two dragons in this barn.”

Dragon and rider looked at each other. Ike answered for them. “Neither snores—too loudly. No nannies.”

I grinned as they followed me into the barn, Tae reachin’ out and nuzzlin’ my neck. His hot breath on my flesh made my skin tingle snout to toes. A creature that large shouldn’t be so gentle, lovin’. The four of us chatted for a while. Ike was as aloof as usual, but Taiz’lin seemed driven to keep the conversation goin’.

Bull dragons can talk yar ear off. Love to hear their own voice.

Even Tae had enough, and dug into the hay to sleep. Ike already lie on his sleepin’ fur, and complained about my dragon disruptin’ his peace.

“Taiz’lin,” I addressed Ike’s dragon. “Do yarself a favor and go find a troll or somethin’ to spend yar life with. This ogre of yars is a right grump.”

The dragon’s chest vibrated, enjoyin’ the snipe at his rider.

I waved and headed for the ladder leadin’ to the loft, and my private little apartment Coedwig built for me.

~

The trill of the two dragons woke me with a fright. I threw clothes on over my pajamas and hurried out to the cat walk.

“What is it?” I shouted down to Ike.

Coedwig joined me on the narrow walkway.

“I don’t know,” Ike said. “Neither will explain. I’m not sure if they know. They seem confused.”

“What are we supposed to do about it?” the dwarf barked.

Ike shrugged his shoulders.

I made my way down the ladder. Taiz’lin remained fairly calm. He seemed to be reactin’ more to Tae’s anxiety. Gnomes flitted in and out, none I recognized. So it wasn’t only the two dragons who were upset. Or were the gnomes reactin’ to Tae and Taiz? That’s common enough.

I leaned against Tae’s chest and stroked each side of the dragon’s neck. “Are we needed in the Hamlet?” I asked him softly.

The creature whined, but calmed with my affection. He still didn’t say anything for a long time. “I don’t know what it was, but it’s gone now. It was much like the day lil’ Gladys had her attack.”

“Lil’ Gladys is sick again?” Ike shouted.

“No,” Tae said. “Not little Miss Gladys. But someone else felt sick. But it’s gone.”

Coedwig had joined us while we were talkin’.

“What do we do, Master Coedwig?” I asked.

“Go back to bed and sleep, like intelligent folk without dragons who interrupt their lives,” he grumbled in his normal tone. But I could see in is face that he was as concerned as Ike and me.

I followed him to the loft, but doubted I was gonna get much sleep. I lie down for no more than half an hour, and decided I needed to go to the Inn. I dressed and left without wakin’ the others.

~

The sun was a couple hours from breakin’ the horizon, so the Hamlet should have been quiet. But it wasn’t. Lanterns streamed between the Inn and the trolls’ place across the way. I didn’t know where to go, but decided the most appropriate was the Inn’s kitchen. Besides, any news worth knowin’ is always known in the kitchen first. Sylvia, Gladys, and Eina seem to have a way of knowin’ events before they occur, and have usually already spun five different versions of the tale by breakfast.

There were no females in the kitchen. That was enough to put me in a mild panic. The expressions of Masters Braes and Bick, who sat at the little table across from the stoves, stoked my fear.

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked.

The two males looked up at me. Both seemed stricken. The human evidently decided the elf wasn’t in the mood to chatter, so he hesitantly explained.

“Yoso raised Gladys a bit ago. Eina was complainin’ of pain in her chest. Gladys didn’t see to her but a moment or so before she ran over here for help.”

I struggled to imagine anythin’ Gladys couldn’t see to.

“She knew there was a doctor vacationin’ at the Inn,” Bick continued. “We roused him and he’s been at Eina’s bedside since. At one point, it didn’t look good. Her lips turned blue and she stopped breathin’, but the doc massaged her chest. After a bit, the pink returned to her lips, so he musta known what he was doin’.”

After a long pause, Braes mumbled, “We might as well start settin’ the tables for breakfast. We could likely use yar help today inside, child, if ya’re up to forsakin’ yar garden.”

The elf stood, but didn’t take a step. He made motions with his hands a few times as though to do somethin’, but his mind seemed locked in place, unable to propel him. I knelt and took the little creature in my arms. I felt a single sob come from him. He placed his face into my shoulder, and he trembled for a moment, before stubbornly standin’ erect.

“Enough with hennish worries,” he said, not too convincin’ly. “Miss Eina is as tough as any dragon. She’ll be in here tomorrow shoutin’ orders like always.”

~

After lunch, I served up a small kettle of soup and walked over to the trolls’ place. Yoso sat outside the dugout lookin’ toward the Lake, though his eyes weren’t movin’, even blinkin’. He held a block of wood and a whittlin’ knife, but his hands remained motionless in his lap.

“Master Yoso?”

He finally turned to me, slowly, as though he could have possibly overlooked me walkin’ across the pasture. But his bloodshot eyes still didn’t focus. It seemed as though he looked through me. I was afraid to ask how his mate was. His expression said enough. A shudder shook my shoulders.

“Can I offer ya a cup of soup, Master Yoso?”

He didn’t say anythin’ for a while. He continued to stare blankly. “Have I told ya lately how sweet I think ya are? And ya’re as cute as a button. Gonna make some bull awfully happy one day.”

I stood frozen, holdin’ my breath.

“We get so busy in our lives,” he said, “we don’t tell the people around us that we care about them.”

He looked back at the Lake. The handle of the kettle had begun to cut into my hand. I pulled my sleeve down to cushion it.

“Ya asked me a question. I’m sorry. What was it ya asked?”

“If ya would care for a cup of soup.”

“I couldn’t even think of eatin’ right now. All Gladys has done the last half-day is flit around in our kitchen preparin’ food. Place already overflowin’ with it, child. Ya take that back to folk who can make use of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

He didn’t say anythin’ more.

I turned back for the Inn reluctantly.

~

Bick paced. He pushed his hands together like they were pipes with missin’ fittin’s, never gonna join. “Why can’t that woman of mine sneak away for ten minutes to let us know how that silly troll is doin’?”

We were all busy cleanin’ up from dinner. The clangin’ of dishes seemed louder than usual with the missin’ chatter. Sylvia seemed to be at a loss without Eina and Gladys. Her eyes welled up with tears often, remained red rimmed.

The elf stood on a chair, dicin’ up whatever Sylvia handed him for the next day’s soup. She would scoop up the litter of his cuttin’ board from time to time with a knife that looked big enough for Coedwig to fell a tree.

Elf Braes turned to me, a crushed expression on his face. “Been two days now. Enough. Wipe yar hands, youngling, and go over there and demand information. Don’t come back without detail. You see her face. You hear me, ogre hen?”

Sylvia laughed. “Elf. Don’t shout at her like she stole your pocket watch.”

He looked over at Sylvia, lips puckered. He turned back to me. “Wasn’t snappin’ at ya,” he said.

I gave him what I hoped appeared smile-ish. The quiet elf still intimidates me, even after the better part of a year. He isn’t quick with a smile, and the odd smile disappears fast, so I never could rightly figger if he had to force his face in the first place. He doesn’t appear to be a happy creature, despite the glee the females of the kitchen normally kept goin’ all around him.

~

Even though the sun was down and there was no moon, Yoso still sat at his chair outside the dugout’s door. I didn’t see him in the dark, but that wasn’t a problem the troll had. He greeted me as I neared, in a much livelier tone than the prior day. I jumped with a start, but the smile in his voice quickly made me forget the momentary fright.

“Ya sound like ya’re doin’ much better tonight,” I said.

“As is the world, tonight,” he said, slappin’ his thigh. “Surprised Bick managed this long without comin’ over to get word himself.”

“Actually, it was Master Braes,” I said. “Behind my visit.”

“Ha. It’s the ones who hide their emotions best that have the broilin’ ones. Doncha think?”

Was that a question he wanted an answer for? “Uh, may I see Miss Eina?”

“Betcha Bick said, ‘Don’t come back without seein’ her,’ am I right?”

I squirmed a little. Didn’t want the troll to think I was only here because I was told to snoop. “We’ve all been anxious to learn of yar mate’s progress, Master Yoso.”

“No doubt, child.”

“Are ya doin’ well, yarself, sir?”

“As dandy as can be expected.” He slapped his thigh again. “I ’magine they’ll let ya in. The doctor only kicked me out a minute ago, actually. The man said he was tired of hearin’ me flatter the patient. Said he was gonna get sick.” The troll chuckled. “Always tell those ya care about, how ya feel, for no reason. Ya might not get the chance later.”

“Yes, sir.”

He sat grinnin’ at the dark, so I passed him and slowly opened the door. No one shouted a get-outahere, so I entered. Gladys leaned before the hearth, peakin’ into a cauldron hangin’ over the fire. She looked up and smiled.

“I think I’ve made too much food. Could feed the entire Inn with what I have here.” She waved her hand at the plethora of bowls and platters that lined and stacked up on the humble table top.

“Suppose my Bick sent ya over. He is an impatient lot.”

I didn’t answer. Once through that conversation was enough, I figgered.

“How is she?” I asked.

“The witch scared me to death. How could she do that to me? I thought we were dear friends. Wretched hen.”

“Must be all yar lyin’ and the celery chunks ya like to throw at her.”

The human woman barked a laugh. “Ya fit in around here wonderfully. But really, she does the better lyin’. Must be a troll thin’. I actually picked up the skill from her.”

“I doubt that,” I said.

“Watch that grin, hen.” Gladys pointed an elegant, if slightly gnarled finger at me. “Go on. See for yarself.” She waved toward the cracked-open door to the right. “So ya can report back.”

I tiptoed into the tiny bedroom. There was a human man sittin’ on a stool next to the tall bed talkin’ softly to Eina, his back turned toward the door. My eyes quickly focused on the troll hen. She looked a decade older than she had three days ago. Her face was ashen. The smile that crossed her lips didn’t hide her exhaustion, but her expression glowed back under the flicker of the candle.

“Finally,” Eina growled. “Someone from the Inn realized I failed to show up to work, eh? Hope Braes isn’t considerin’ firin’ me for dereliction.”

I smiled. “Ya’ve had male folk of a half-dozen races traipsin’ through with tears in their eyes. Ya’ve been indeed missed.”

“The way my bones are achin’, as though I just hiked the northern peak twice, ya’re gonna be missin’ me for a couple days longer.”

“Longer than that,” the human said, swivelin’ a little on the stool to face me. “Though yar hamlet’s intriguin’ matriarch may only be a quarter as old as yar dragon, Ash’et, it’s time she gave up standin’ in the kitchen all day.”

I caught my breath. The human was the one I decided to dislike, the day he arrived. He wore a thin smile, but it hid his exhaustion as poorly as Eina’s hid hers. Dark splotches circled under his eyes, his speech slurred a little, like it does right after wakin’ in the mornin’. Had he slept at all since comin’ to Eina’s bedside.

“You’re Aedwin, correct?” the man continued. “Eina has told me a lot about you and your beautiful dragon. Hope I get to meet Tae before I leave.”

“How’s my kitchen doin’, youngling?” Eina asked.

“It’ll be much better, hearin’ ya’re feelin’ well. That is—are ya feelin’ well?” I asked.

“Considerin’ I may have been dead for a minute or so, says Gladys, I must be feelin’ fantastic. Ya tell them all I’ll be waitin’ for daily updates. I will not allow the standards of my kitchen to slip.”

I had trouble keepin’ my eyes on Eina. I remained confused about the human man. He had seemed so—distant. I took him for some city banker or such, more concerned about himself than others. But under the light of the candle, bloodshot eyes, in his pajama top still, wearin’ a three-day beard, leanin’ over tired-like with his arm restin’ on the bed next to Eina—he didn’t look high falootin’ in any fashion. Looked as though he should be in his own sick bed.

“Doctor, ya best follow Aedwin back to the Inn, and take Gladys with ya on the way out. I’m gonna sleep now, which the two of ya need to do too. Off with ya.”

“I think that’s good advice,” he said. “You’re going to be fine. Just need time. Try sitting up and eating some broth in the morning, and I’ll be by to see about you before I head home.”

Hm. He didn’t get much of a vacation.

Eina grabbed his hand with both of hers. Tears flooded her eyes. “Thank ya, doctor, for givin’ me more time with my Yoso.”

He patted her hands with his free one. My eyes focused on the human’s much smaller hand, comfortin’ the giant. I thought of the unflatterin’ descriptions, stories I once overheard a clan elder tell about humans.

How could I have been so wrong about him? Not one to beat a horse. Indeed, he prolly rescued the creature from an evil owner. Shame he never got a proper stay.

~