Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 2
Iza
~

Ash’et trumpeted her disdain, unhappy with her dragonets’ involvement with the two-legged creatures from the Hamlet. It’s bad enough two of my siblings and I have bonded with three of the creatures, but Ash’et holds out hope that two of the bulls from her last clutch will stay away from the two-legged—stay clean. That Tae had flown the lost woman and ogreling home was nearly more than Ash’et could bear. At least she put on a wonderful act. No. It was no act. She was sincere. She lives in the past. Should give the lesser races a chance.

Silly. She needs to get over her hatred of the two-legged ones.

I wobbled to the entrance of the lair, where I spend as little time anymore than I have to, to keep the peace. Don’t know why I came back here first after our long hunt. Can’t put the lair totally behind me. I haven’t completed my education yet, so return most afternoons for my tutorin’. I was eager to get back to my Lucas. Grown used to the sweet smell of the hay in my barn, the muskiness in the lair now disconcerts.

I dropped off the ledge with Ash’et’s last angry admonishment. I can’t feel guilty for the relationship between me and Lucas, no matter how much my dam derides me. I adore Lucas, will live with him for the rest of my life—or at least his life. The momentary reminder I will long outlive him stung. Like a dwarfen axe to my chest. I forced myself to turn my mind back to my queen.

Ash’et is a contrary creature by nature, and would have found somethin’ else to sour her temper if it weren’t the current situation. Most any irritant will do. Only her mate made her mood half-palatable. How my sire, Mo’sale, puts up with Ash’et, I haven’t a clue. He’s always willin’ to ignore her mean words. When he wraps his neck around his mate, she calms. Too bad it doesn’t last days, instead of minutes. How can Tae and Kyn put up with Ash’et’s attitude all day, every day? I’m happy for my other two siblings, Tir and Syl. They spend most of their days, all their nights, in the Hamlet now, in their barns with their bonded mates, the orc Janding and Asr the ogre.

I unfurled my wings and floated toward the Lake far below, enjoyin’ the sun, the warmin’ air as I escaped the heights. Would I ever convince my queen it’s safe to live below? Where the temperature edges above freezin’ in the summers?

I soared over fishermen in a boat. They waved enthusiastically. I let go a particularly deep, rumblin’ trumpet in reply as I finally thrust my wings to regain altitude. It only took a few dozen strokes to get me to the far, southeastern shore where I live with my Lucas, his sibling and sister in-law—a strange title. Humans have odd names for their relations.

The livestock announced my arrival and my towheaded young man ran from the cabin to meet me. Lucas wore a big grin. It immediately erased all of my earlier, gloomy thoughts. I felt my head sway, eyes whirl in the way that enchants my bonded mate. When I landed, the young man grabbed my neck in a tight embrace.

“Lydia has—the baby’s near,” he gasped. “She wants us to fetch Miss Gladys.” My arrival was timely. Indeed.

I extended my leg and leaned forward, and he climbed onto my back. When I felt his double grip on my neck ridge, I launched.

“This is excitin’,” I told him.

“It is,” he shouted over the noise of the wind.

~

Gladys glared at Lucas. I’m gettin’ better at readin’ human expressions. Don’t think the apparent irritation was sincere. “Ya expect me to climb upon yar sweet dragon, do ya?” She chuckled. “I’ll leave that kind of nonsense for Sylvia and the younglings of the Hamlet. I’ll come along d’rectly by foot. This is Lydia’s first. We have plenty of time.”

I couldn’t help myself. I extended my neck out far to get close to the human woman, studied her face, and sniffed, as though a human’s smell changes with their mood. That it doesn’t, make them so much harder to understand. Humans rely on the intricacies of the face, movements a dragon can’t manage. I find that very frustratin’.

“I’ve seen sheep and goats go from grazin’ to birth in moments,” I said to the woman. “How can we have so much time?”

“Trust me, Iza. It’s much more time consumin’ for us lowly humans.”

“Everythin’ is more complicated with ya humans,” I said. “So much drama.”

Gladys grinned and waved her hand in the air as she walked for her cabin. I turned and looked at the humans linin’ the Inn’s veranda. I tried my best human-like smile at them. They shrank away.

“Remember,” Lucas said softly to me, “yar teeth come across a little threatenin’.”

“I still like to try,” I said.

“I know, sweets.”

~

The bleats from the loose stock woke me when Gladys approached. I lay enjoyin’ the late afternoon sun. Still felt stuffed from the family’s hunt south, and settlin’ into the warm stones of the beach turned me lethargic. I struggled to open my eyes to greet the Hamlet’s herbalist who would be Lydia’s midwife—humans require so much careful handlin’.

Gladys stopped before me and gave me a scratch under the chin. “We’ll keep good care of Lydia and the baby,” Gladys told me.

“I know ya will,” I answered sleepily, rewardin’ the woman with a gravelly hum of contentment.

Several minutes later my Lucas came out of the cabin and plopped upon the stairs leadin' from the porch. “She kicked me out. Imagine that,” he complained.

“I think the best thin’ to do,” I said with a pause, “is give me a good back scratch. It’ll make ya feel a lot better.”

He chuckled. “Make me feel better? Or ya?”

“Are ya sayin’ ya don’t enjoy makin’ me feel good?”

He walked down the steep incline and climbed up on my back, reached down to scratch the inside of my shoulders.

“Mmmmmmmmm.”

~

The sun had fallen. Angry goats and sheep surrounded me. Were clearly ready for their grain treat, and to be penned in the barn where it’s warm and safe. My movement woke Lucas, and he rolled off of my back, grumblin’. It hadn’t taken long for my full gullet and contented self to wear off on him. He stumbled toward the barn shakin’ his head, tryin’ to wake up. The stock followed closely behind, bleatin’ their admonishment for bein’ late in carin’ for them. Almost as pushy as a typical human.

I rose and walked around to the edge of the porch and peered in the second story window where Lydia and Roger sleep. Gladys came to the window and swung it open.

“You can tell Lucas there’s no word. Nature is slowly takin’ its course. I told ya we had plenty of time.”

I practiced my human nod, turned and wobbled toward the barn. I was ready for a good night’s sleep. One little nap hadn’t accommodated my four-day feedin' binge.

~

“Wake up, Lucas, wake up. Come on, sleepy head.”

I slowly raised one eyelid halfway and watched Roger shakin’ his sibling. Lucas grumbled and pulled his sleepin’ fur away from his face.

“What?” Lucas slurred.

“Lydia needs help. Gladys says the baby is turned, and she can’t straighten it out. You have to go north and bring back a doctor. Gladys tried not to scare me, but I know it’s desperate. I’ve pulled a turned calf before, and I know they’ll both die soon if that baby doesn’t come out.”

“Where, who?” Lucas asked, rubbin’ his eyes.

“There’s a hospital in Caern, but stop and see if old Doc Jackson is in Dinas first.”

“I’ve never been to Caern,” Lucas mumbled.

“Ya can’t miss it. Follow the northern road. Caern is ten times bigger than home.”

The man thrust his sibling’s heavy coat and gloves into his chest, and half lifted him from his deep hay bed. “Ya awake, Iza?”

I rose slowly and extended my wings to stretch—which is a bit hard to do inside the barn. My body punished me for wakin’ too early. I wanted to lie back down and sleep. Notin’ Roger’s lantern, I managed to say, “I can’t fly at night.”

“It’ll be light in a bit,” Roger said. “This is important, Iza. I need yar help. Please?”

I leaned down to nuzzle the man. Misjudged my movement in my drowsy state and pushed Roger stumblin’ for the door. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. I wasn’t, really. Sleep is very important to a dragon.

“Bring me back a doctor, please?”

I waddled for the wide door as Roger rolled it open. The cooler air that wafted in helped me waken—a little. I looked into the sky. The eastern horizon didn’t have any kind of purple tinge in it. Roger exaggerated. A wave of anxiety slithered across my hide, what my Lucas calls a shiver.

“It’s impossible to feel if I’m risin’ or fallin’ when I can’t see the horizon,” I said softly to Lucas.

He reached out and stroked my wing, before hookin’ up the front of his jacket and pullin’ on his gloves.

“Over the lowlands I wouldn’t worry as much,” I said. “But these mountains—”

“I know, Iza. But we have to do this.”

I felt my head wobblin’, but it wasn’t from joy, like when I reunite with Lucas. I couldn’t remember ever feelin’ my current emotion before. It was much more than the intimidation that washes over me when the queen rants. This was much worse. Lucas would be feelin’ my emotions, so I struggled to calm down.

He pushed his face against my breast and spread his arms across me.

“Good luck,” Roger said. “God speed.”

Lucas turned and shook his sibling’s hand.

“I came here to help ya,” Roger said. “But it seems like ya two are always here for me. Ya know I’ll never forget this.”

“It’s what family does,” Lucas said softly. He clubbed Roger in the arm and turned back to me.

I extended my knee, and he climbed up.

“Ya always talk about the constant wind up high. Get up there and stay there,” Lucas said.

“But it’s very cold.”

“I have my gloves and my hat,” Lucas said. “I’d rather be cold than mushed into the side of a cliff.”

I couldn’t help myself. I trumpeted at his odd humor. I felt his grip and launched into the air. Stiff shoulders argued back with sharp pangs. I flew hard to rise quickly, intimidated by the peaks that surround the valley. Lucas stroked my neck with one gloved hand.

~

The risin’ sun allowed me to glide and rest a long bit as I reduced my altitude. “Right balmy down here,” Lucas shouted, as I felt another shiver through his knees. My human mate would take a long time to warm up.

The sun had been up less than an hour when we passed over Lucas’ home village. At even intervals we passed over three more like-sized towns. A half-hour later we approached a metropolis in comparison. It wasn’t until then that we both mentally shared that we forgot to stop in Dinas first for the retired doctor Roger spoke of.

I spiraled down toward what looked like the central plaza of Caern. There was little open space, and I had to thrust hard to come down more directly than I preferred, but landed softly enough. I’m not the dragonet that crashed into the Hamlet’s pier years ago. Lucas’ mirth mingled with my thoughts. I twisted around to look at him. He wore a big grin. But he didn’t move at first. He slowly sat up, flexin’ his hands.

“Ya were very cold for a very long time,” I said.

He didn’t answer. Dozens of people rushed toward us from every direction, hurlin’ excited questions at us. Faces gawked. Guess dragons don’t frequently come a visitin’ here. Snort—

“I need a doctor. Have an emergency,” Lucas called.

The crowd quieted, but no one answered him.

“Where can I find a doctor?” he shouted. “My sister. She’s—I need a doctor.”

A little human girl the size of a good pinecone walked near me, her mouth open, eyes wide. She finally turned away from me and spoke to Lucas. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

~

I wasn’t sure if I was glad to see my Lucas makin’ his way through the crowd or not. The hot sun felt absolutely wonderful and children had gotten the nerve—that is, their parents overcame their fear and allowed the children to approach me. They rubbed my hide everywhere they could reach. Their squeals of excitement were a little irritatin’, but the attention, delectable.

The man followin’ Lucas, carryin’ a big, leather satchel, came to an abrupt halt thirty feet away. He stared, and clutched his bag to his chest. His mouth dropped open and he pointed at me. “Ride that?” he asked.

“Her name’s Iza,” Lucas said. “You’ll be perfectly safe, I promise.”

It took Lucas several more moments to coerce the doctor to climb up behind him. But when I felt two pairs of hands grip my dorsal ridges, I launched. The man screamed, not unlike the way Lucas had, the first time he rode atop me, for real, not in one of our shared dreams. The man continued to scream for a good ten minutes, at least. His grip was a little uncomfortable.

Poor little human. Must have trust issues.

~

Midday neared when we landed at home. The doctor struggled to slide down my shoulder. His knees buckled when he hit the ground. He stumbled backward. Might have gone down if Lucas didn’t make it to his side. When the man caught his balance he stood starin’ at me for a moment, then turned and gave Lucas a glare.

Those human facial expressions. They mean so much to each other. Lucas once joked, if I could flip a coin with my talons, I could use that as a good way to figger humans out. Claimed most expressions meant no more than three thin’s. I think he guessed low.

Lucas shrugged his shoulders. “I told ya it’s nothin’ like ya could imagine.”

The doctor squinted, but Roger ran down the slope to us and rushed the man away. Lucas looked over at me sadly. His sense of embarrassment, palpable.

“Roger was excited to see the doctor,” I said.

He answered me with only a wisp of a smile.

“That’s good news, is it not?” I asked.

Lucas nodded and stripped off his gloves, coat, and knit hat. I nudged him roughly, and he smiled. I gave him a snort, turned, and waddled into the grass to lie out in the afternoon sun. I spread my wings out flat, and Lucas lay against my shoulder—to wait.

~

I woke as the sun set, surprised Lucas wasn’t by my side. Odd, that he woke and moved away without disturbin’ my sleep. The two siblings stood at the foot of the porch holdin' each other in a tight embrace. Lucas’ emotions flooded me, intense, painful ones that felt like a great force squeezin’ my chest. I keened in grief. My head flowed back and forth. I couldn’t stop, as a shrill trumpet escaped from my chest, louder and louder.

Lucas pulled away from his sibling and ran to me. Flung himself against my chest and wrapped my neck in his arms. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” he said. “For now they’re both well. A little girl. She’s so tiny, Roger says, but the doctor doesn’t want anyone comin’ near her, so I can’t go see her. Lydia is well, but it was very hard on her.”

“Then why were ya two cryin’?” I asked.

An odd snort, I think a half-laugh, half-sob, erupted from my Lucas. He quickly wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Men don’t cry,” he said.

“That’s the first time ya’ve ever lied to me,” I said.

He laughed and peered over his shoulder at his sibling, who gave us a little wave and turned to go back inside. Lucas pressed against me again. His face felt cool against my breast.

“It’s not so much a lie as a conviction,” he said.

“Ya humans are odd creatures,” I said, and stepped forward pushin’ him along with me.

“Where ya goin’?”

“Just ’cause ya’re not allowed in, doesn’t mean I can’t see the baby.”

I waddled to the edge of the buildin' and looked in the second story window. A laugh echoed inside and the window opened a few moments later. Gladys stood inside with a tiny bundle in her arms. She pulled back the edge of the blanket. I leaned in close.

“Oh. Tiny thin’,” I said softly. It didn’t smell very nice. But my Lucas has a lot of different smells too. Often smells very musky—especially when he’s workin’. Smells best after his Saturday bath. Maybe the baby needs a bath.

“Human babies aren’t very pretty, are they?” I said.

Gladys didn’t look up, though her smile didn’t change. Her eyes remained on the bundle. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

~