Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 19
Ike

~

I teased the crows with my own cawin’. They looked at me with cocked heads as though they wondered what kind of fool not only hiked in this snow-covered ground but tried to mimic a language alien to it. And, trespassin’ in their territory.

“Pough. Ya don’t own the forest.”

Caws from a dozen birds debated my assertion.

I stopped and glared at one particularly obstinate grackle on a nearby, low-hangin’ branch. “Bam,” I shouted at it. It fluttered one wing as though to threaten to come down and straighten me out.

Caw-ahhh.

“Yeah, I guess it would be nice to have wings, but I have properly-furry feet. Not a problem, I assure ya. But thanks for yar concern.”

I turned, enjoyin’ my own joke, and continued up the draw, what is slowly turnin’ into a proper trail, toward Coedwig’s. The strong smell of burnin’ pine settled in the canyon. Not necessarily an appealin’ scent in itself, but carries with it emotions of warmth, friends and family, and home-cooked food. Might the pungent odor insult the trees I walked through, remindin’ them the two-legged folk use their kind?

“We appreciate what ya do for us, we truly do,” I said to my pine audience. “Keep sproutin’ yar cones and ya’ll never be in want of company.”

I stopped again and looked up into the canopy, sun glistenin’ here and there off the dollops of snow adornin’ it.

“I hope ya don’t feel the axe. A shame it can’t be done as quickly as puttin’ an arrow through a deer’s heart. Suppose ya feel the flames even afterward. Geez, ya know how to depress a fellow.”

I shook my head to dislodge the ugly image. Didn’t help. I leaned back and took in a deep breath. It was a glorious day. The sky blue for a change, like some gigantic, azure gem Janding might polish for a necklace.

“Ya often talk to the trees?”

I jerked, spun to find who, where the voice came from. Oh, bully, how long had she been standin’ there?

“I see why ya must be a wanderer. Ya indeed like the outdoors and her treasures.”

I glared at Aedwin. The ogre hen didn’t wear a teasin’ grin as I expected. One of my bull siblings would have been berserk in enjoyment, seein’ the manner I was grandly startled.

“Don’t know why everyone insists on callin’ me a wanderer. I’ve been around pretty consistently, haven’t I?”

“No offense,” she said.

Aedwin closed the distance between us. She wore a pair of the leather comfy-things on her feet. No doubt a gift from Janding. The orc is never satisfied to see any of the Hamlet ogres or trolls walkin’ about barefoot in the winter. He would no doubt prefer seein’ us all shackled, wearin’ heeled soles even when snow didn’t cover the ground.

She followed my eyes, and looked down at her feet. “I know. They’re quite the extravagance.”

“Don’t seem right. Yar feet must sweat somethin’ awful in those.”

“Ya’re good at changin’ the subject, aren’t ya?”

“Wasn’t intentional. Why are ya out here?” I asked. “Instead of warm and toasty in yar loft?”

“Enjoyed breakfast with the others,” she said. She hefted a folded towel she carried.

“Must be Eina’s biscuits for Coedwig,” I guessed.

She smiled. “He does love her biscuits. Ya didn’t join us at the Inn either. Ya sleep in this morn?”

“With that lazy Taiz’lin sleepin’ twenty-four hours a day, it’s hard to get motivated in the mornin’. Creepy how dragons can sleep so much.”

“Ya don’t have to tell me. I don’t think Tae has lifted an eyelid in two days. His slumber affects me too.”

I turned and fell in step with Tae’s two-legged rider. She’s at least five years older than me, I think, but stands well below my shoulder height. Too delicate for an ogre. Maybe that’s why the lined boots work for her.

“I hate most when Taiz’lin feeds,” I said. “Makes me feel a little crazy.”

She laughed. A snort escaped, makin’ her giggle. That wasn’t a proper ogre sound, either. She’s so unlike my hen sibling—shouldn’t go there—why am I startin’ to favor the Hamlet newcomer so much?

My two bull siblings chat over the dinin’ table like she would automatically choose to mate one of them. Yet I can’t help the feelin’ she likes my company more. Wish my tusks are a little more along. Doesn’t seem right. I’m much taller than my older siblings. Shoulders almost twice as broad. But, I don’t get the whole wooin’ thin’ they look forward to. Still, I recognize I like the hen’s company.

“Lucas,” she said, “told me about when he first bonded with Iza. His behavior at the dinner table wasn’t appreciated, when Iza fed.” She laughed again.

I’ve heard the story many times. But she stole my thoughts for the moment. She’s so quick to laugh. Couldn’t remember ever hearin’ her tease anyone, or speakin’ sternly.

We entered the little dell Coedwig’s home nestles in, where Tae and Aedwin call home too. Out from under the trees, the snow turned deeper, crunchin’ under our steps. We crossed the whimsical little bridge the dwarf built over the creek. The treads moaned. Imagined they complained the cold was enough for them, didn’t need two-legged creatures stridin’ across them too.

The broad door of the barn set rolled back about a quarter. The shikkk shikkk of the dwarf’s plane pealed through the brisk air.

“What’s he workin’ on now?” I asked.

“A porch swing for little Gladys. Can’t imagine what it’s gonna look like. He has pieces strung all over the place. Keeps his own little map in his head, I guess, until it’s all ready to fit into place. Must gonna be a fancy little thin’.”

“He favors the human little girl a lot,” I said. “Dotes. He needed his sons to give him a granddaughter—I love those human words—instead of all bull younglings.”

After a quick explanation of son and granddaughter, she laughed again. Sounded a bit like a song. Too high-pitched for an ogre. Maybe she’s really a human witch, disguised as an ogre for some diabolical means. But I know she smells as well with her snout as any ogre. A conundrum. I like that word too. Heard one of the Inn’s guests once use it. The human was gleeful when I asked what it meant that day. Guess he didn’t figger a bumblin’ ogre would care to expand his vocabulary.

We strode into the barn. She wasn’t kiddin’. There were polished wooden components strung about. More than it should take to make a swingin’ bench. Was gonna be ugly if Tae ever woke from his hay pile and tried to make it outside.

Coedwig looked up from his effort and grunted. I returned it with my own, before Aedwin pushed the bundle of biscuits at me. She ran over to her dragon and leaned over on him, givin’ him a hug. Shouldn’t bother a sleepin’ dragon. Taiz’lin doesn’t like it one bit.

She spoke to the dragon as though to a toddlin’ youngling. Tae didn’t uncurl. He might have even turned away a tad. I felt a sense of unsavory gratification.

I walked over and set the ice-cold biscuits on a stool that I pressed right up against the potbellied stove. Wouldn’t get ’em hot, but better than they are. I nodded to the ever-present gnome that sat nearby, watchin’ his friend the dwarf work.

“Ya’re spendin’ a lot of time up here these days,” Coedwig said softly. There was a twinkle in his eye. Or was it just a smirk?

“Gives me an excuse to get away from my two bull siblings,” I mumbled. “Not like I come here for yar gregarious conversation.”

“Gregarious? Big word for an ignert ogre. So only here to avoid them, huh?”

“Just said, it ain’t yar company. I admit I’m learnin’ about wood from ya. But don’t let it go to yar fat head.”

The runt dwarf laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

His unusual grin faded a bit. “Glad to see ya’re so dedicated to my craft.”

“Ya work straight on this the last two days?” I asked, pickin’ up a six-foot-long rail, strokin’ my fingers across the smooth surface. The dwarf’s an artist, not a mere woodworker. “I was here two days ago and ya were just strikin’ that black oak log.”

“Ya be interested in prettifyin’ this thin’, like ya do yar bows?” the dwarf asked.

I scrunched up my face in thought. That was a lot more surface to brand than the backside of a bow.

“Don’t have to be as intricate as yar regular designs,” Coedwig offered.

I asked what he had in mind. The dwarf described his scheme.

“Ya need it to be bold,” I said. “I couldn’t use my irons. Need to go down and put Janding’s blacksmithin’ to work.”

“This is for a gentle little crippled girl, ya fool,” Coedwig argued.

“Then why’s it six-foot wide?”

The dwarf pushed out his lips, wrinklin’ his nose. Our arguin’ continued for a half-hour more until the dwarf admitted in frustration he would trust my artistic eye. I’ve never called myself an artist. Maybe others have. Not my business.

“When this project is done,” I hedged, “ya be open to takin’ on another one with me?”

The dwarf grunted, in none too good a mood all a sudden—meanin’ his normal mood. He sanded at the piece he worked on for a minute before he prodded me to continue.

“Gotta get Taiz’lin out of that barn with Tir. The two dragons are bottled up in there with livestock. It ain’t decent. They can’t hardly move.”

“Dragons don’t budge when they sleep anyway. Sleep as sound as rocks.”

“Don’t go insultin’ my dragon,” I rasped. “Besides, if I have to spend much time in there with my pompous dragon-ridin’ sibling, we may kill each other. Well, not like he has a chance of landin’ a hand on me.”

“Wantin’ yar own loft, do ya?”

Frankly, was thinkin’ more than just a loft. Might need to engage a dozen or so troll granite crafters too.

~

It took four days for me to create the three filigree brands I’d use on little Gladys’ porch swing. A real smithy could have whipped them out. When I finally arrived at the loft, the dwarf practically jumped in the air with his irritation for the delay, until I pointed out the delicate little human girl wasn’t gonna be sittin’ out in the cold much any time soon. Winter in the Valley is brutal, after all.

Coedwig continued to boldly, and repetitively point out the fact that I’m no smith. I answered with a growl. All there was needed to say.

Over the next several days, with Aedwin and Coedwig’s help keepin’ the brands red-hot in stoked coals, my effort went quickly. Coedwig exploded with insult when I began mixin’ a can of whitewash. Not on his beautiful oak, he shouted. We practiced our usual bickerin’, pretty much just sport for us I think, which even woke the slumberin’ Tae. I pretty much ignored my mentor, continued with what I was doin’. But once the wood lightened around the scorched stencilin’, the rails began to look much like the beautiful ash bows I’m known for. So there, ya stuffy, old, grumpy, opinionated dwarf.

The next day, after another four hours of the three of us rubbin’ beeswax into the finished product, we dismantled the swing and carefully packed it on the dwarf’s new sled. I looked out the partially open barn door, and feet of snow, not lookin’ forward to the trek to the South Shore.

“What’s with the sour look?” Coedwig grumbled. “Ya’re a tough ogre. Don’t ya and yar siblings and papa go on a week-long winter hunt every year?”

“We camp in the midlands, and lowlands,” I said. “We get out of this deep snow in a few hours.”

“See.” Aedwin grinned. “My boots aren’t so bad after all.”

Coedwig cleared his throat. “Tough ogre bulls. Hen smarter than all of ya.”

I swung at the dwarf’s cap, but Coedwig anticipated, and ducked.

“Didn’t know an ancient ole poop could move so fast,” I said, givin’ the dead-weight of the sled a tentative pull by the rope lead.

Behind us, Aedwin’s dragon unwound in his hay nest and groaned loudly. The three of us turned toward the creature, surprised. I couldn’t remember when Tae last budged. The dragon slowly tested his outer eye lids, before partially openin’ his inner lids.

“What?” he asked, tippin’ his head back. “The others are goin’ for a hunt. I thought I’d join ’em.”

~

The white, slopin’ field in front of little Gladys’ home was filled with most of the Hamlet’s dragons as the three of us made our way over the frozen Lake. Tae glided over us to settle with the others.

My good friend Lucas, little Gladys’ uncle and Iza’s rider, thrashed through the snow toward us. He gave Aedwin a big hug, and smushed Coedwig’s hat down on his head, before helpin’ me pull the heavy sled up the embankment.

“Whacha got here?” Lucas asked. “Must be special to have all the dragons up at once.”

“A coincidence,” Aedwin called over the noise of the stretchin’ dragons. “They’re goin’ for a hunt. Nothin’ to do with our little delivery.”

I caught my friend’s glancin’ smile. Aedwin’s a rider and knows pretty much everythin’ her Tae knows—as Lucas would know what Iza is on about. Aedwin is a little slow to recognize sarcasm. Too sweet. But my mind slipped onto another thought quickly, as I looked up to the porch to see Asr walk out of the cabin. I groaned. I spend enough time with Poet, as I’d begun to call him, an inside joke between the dragon siblings.

“Is Janding here too?” I asked Lucas.

He may have answered with a nod or shake, but I didn’t notice, as Asr ran down and gave Aedwin a hug. I felt my heart pump harder. What right did he have huggin’ the hen? Like he hadn’t seen her in months or somethin’.

“Missed ya this mornin’ at breakfast,” Asr said overly loud to Aedwin.

“Shared Coedwig’s oatmeal this mornin’,” she answered. “I was excited to help them finish.” She hefted her thumb toward the loaded sled.

Asr strolled beside Aedwin, not offerin’ to help me and Lucas pull the sled up the slick hill. Unintended, I heard a deep growl from way inside my chest. Lucas chuckled. Don’t know what was so amusin’ to the ignert human.

We hauled our burden near the porch and I strode back to pay my respects to the queen dragon. I stroked Iza’s long neck. Her chest vibrated with contentment. I turned to walk back up the hill, but stopped, irritated at the scene, Aedwin and Coedwig workin’ to untie the load, while Asr stood, flirtin’ with the ogre hen. Not botherin’ to offer to help. Typical.

The force of a fallin’ tree slammed into my back. I whirled around to look directly into Iza’s snout.

“Behave,” she growled at me. “Ya’re upsettin’ Tir.”

My Taiz’lin trumpeted, and wobbled toward us. Though I appreciated the dragon’s emotional support, I watched his awkward saunter—others think it’s funny—but anythin’ Taiz’lin does amazes me, for some reason. If I live to be two hundred years old I will never fail to enjoy watchin’ his ungainly way on the ground. It’s too endearin’, completely at odds to the grandeur all dragons portray in the air. Makes them more appealin’.

I glanced back at Iza. “Tir should get upset, his rider makin’ such an idjit of himself.” Which didn’t make Iza happy, considerin’ her snarl. I rubbed Taiz’lin’s chin when the bull reached us. I’m glad my friend no longer acts so timidly around the queen dragon. About time. She made it plain enough she accepted his presence at the Hamlet.

“Ya know his rider’s behavior isn’t what’s gettin’ him agitated,” Iza said.

What’d she mean? So I can’t even slam my sibling with a glare?

Lydia came out of the house with little Gladys bundled up in her arms. Everyone’s face turned to smiles. All the dragons rocked their heads side to side in greetin’. The girl squealed somethin’ I didn’t understand. Her speech is comin’ along so slowly since her illness. The short Coedwig hurried to her. His stubby legs strugglin’ with the stairs built for a human’s stride looked almost as funny as a dragon walkin’ on flat ground. The dwarf immediately began his dotin’ on the girl.

I left the dragons and returned to my task of unpackin’ the load, haulin’ the pieces to the porch. Of course Asr stood mostly in the way, not helpin’.

“Poet. Why don’t ya go stick yar nose in a book and get out of the way.”

“Don’t call me that.” Asr growled.

“That the best ogre growl ya can manage?” I asked. “Ya should stay indoors where it’s warm and let the bulls get some work done.”

Asr stopped in front of me on the stairs. I didn’t go out of my way not to jam him with the porch swing slats I carried, along with a good wedge of my shoulder. Made it up the stairs and leaned over to set them down when Asr pushed me. It was only a nudge, to be honest. But it was an escalation in my mind, nonetheless. Don’t push an ogre, should be chiseled over the entry of every ogre temple.

“That hurt, ya fool,” Asr hissed.

I stood up and pushed my older sibling back, with more force than I truly intended. With the ice on the steps, Asr slipped and tumbled meanly down to the ground below, head bouncin’ off each step until he hit the packed snow. I rushed down to help him, but as quickly as Asr hit the ground, the bull was up and grabbin’ at me. More violent insults flew between us—none I meant, but they came out good and ugly anyway. A simple tussle quickly escalated as we slipped together in the snow and hit the ground hard.

Aedwin and Lucas rushed at us to pull us apart. Asr slugged me in the face and I gifted him with a much harder blow—I mean, ya could cut me in half and both parts would be heavier than Asr, the poet. Blood gushed from my sibling’s face. Pretty sure I loosened both his tusks, which is hard to do. The angry trumpetin’ of five dragons froze all of us two-legged, before we were knocked to the ground in a new assault.

Asr’s Tir rushed to his mate’s aid, and Taiz’lin fluttered in to intercede. Syl and Tae did their best to pull the two back. Hair-raisin’ dragon screams filled the air. Wings grappled, long deadly talons swung dangerously through the air. Long draconian necks swung like the well-developed weapons they are.

I grabbed Aedwin and Asr to pull them under me, to protect them. Lucas was shoved viciously in the rush of dragons, flyin’ a good fifteen feet away—wasn’t gonna endear Iza. Light disappeared with all the dragons fallin’ about us, the angry screams, deafenin’.

God, what have I done? I felt a pair of talons dig into my legs and back, pressin’ the air out of my lungs.

Taiz’lin, stop! Taiz’lin stop!

The queen dragon’s angry trumpet thundered and in a flash the rancor stopped. Little Gladys’ cries were the only discernable noise. Dragons retracted from the fray slowly, awkwardly. The gray winter sky became visible again. I pushed myself off of Aedwin and Asr, looked up the stairs to see Coedwig, his fists on his hips, grimacin’ down at us, no, me. Behind him Lydia pressed herself against the cabin door, fear still stainin’ her face. Little Gladys sobbed.

“Ya fools done?” Coedwig shouted.

I offered my hand to Aedwin, but she ignored it. Asr sniveled somethin’ to her but she wrenched away from him too and walked away, to her Tae.

I hurried to Taiz’lin. The dragon had a dozen gashes about his neck and back. He fluttered a wing, to test if it functioned. A sob threatened in my chest. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I removed my vest and pulled my shirt over my head, tearin’ it into pieces. Without botherin’ to put my vest back on, I pressed the strips against my dragon’s wounds.

I turned my head and finally noticed that Tir lay flat in the snow. Blood flowed down the side of his head. The combined swell of all the dragons’ emotions, through my connection with Taiz’lin, bombarded me.

“It looks bad, but Tir’s wound isn’t dangerous,” I heard in my mind. Not sure from which dragon, but didn’t feel like Taiz’lin.

“Asr,” I called.

My bull sibling looked at me. Tears ran down his face, too. I threw him what remained of my shirt. The ogre nodded to me, and turned to continue his fussin’ over his friend.

My face burned. I found Iza glarin’ at me, unmovin’. Her golden eyes drilled straight through me. She turned and waddled toward her barn. The funny strut didn’t amuse me now.

Aedwin comforted Tae, though it looked like the blood he wore was mostly either Tir’s or Taiz’lin’s. Syl slunk away, launched into the air, directly toward the North Shore. I watched the dragon soar home and caught sight of the crowd gatherin’ across the frozen Lake—may have been my guilty imagination, since we ogres aren’t known for our sharp vision. My ears still rang from the earlier trumpets and dragon screams. I tried to imagine how loud the ruckus could have been two miles away at the Inn.

I looked up at the porch. Lydia had taken little Gladys back inside. Coedwig still stared at me, like it was all my fault, but turned, and began arrangin’ the pieces of the swing. The snub of indifference to the multitude of emotions laid out on the snow below, stung. I deserved it, I know. The others didn’t. What a way to deliver a gift created with love.

I turned and found Taiz’lin’s next-worse gash and pressed my bloody shirt against it to stanch the bleedin’. Taiz’lin’s chest vibrated. He lowered his head, nuzzlin’ my back.

Tae departed with Aedwin on his back. I felt new tears stream down my face. If Taiz’lin didn’t need mendin’, I’d have invited my dragon to go away with me, far away, that instant.

“Ya’re cold,” Taiz’lin said softly, and nuzzled the side of my face.

“It isn’t important,” I answered.

~