Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 5
Tiff
~

“I’m goin’, too,” Ike said confidently.

“Ha. Not for another four years ya won’t,” Asr teased. My three little bulls can be so mean to each other.

“Will too. I’m goin’.”

My third-born wagged a finger in front of my youngest’s face, wrinkled up his snout, and shook his head. “I had to wait two more winters after Torc first went. Ya’re four years younger than me. That means ya have four more years of waitin’.”

My littlest stinker may only be four years old, but with all his runnin’ off, he’s spent more time alone in the woods than either Torc or Asr—the two combined, for that matter. Ike raised his fists in the air like he was ready to tussle, even though Asr sat across the table from him.

“Ya don’t have to rub it in, Asr.” I normally strive to avoid bein’ drawn into the unendin’ battles between my three bulls, but I didn’t want my silence to imply the youngest had any chance of goin’ on the winter hunt.

Ike turned on me, his face wrenched into an angry scowl that comes pretty natural to him. “I’ve spent nights out alone. Never scared a minute. I’m strong. I’m goin’.”

I looked across at my mate to speak up, but he found somethin’ very interestin’ to study in his stew. Coward. Not one for conflict—especially when it comes to Ike. The stinkin’ little bull is nothin’ like Torc or Asr. Not from the first day he filled his first diaper. A personality as intimidatin’ at four years old as the great peak north of the Hamlet.

“See.” Ike thrust his jaw out to make the nub of his tusks look as prominent as he could. “I’ve even battled goblins. Ya’ve never done that,” he shouted at Asr.

“Ha. When have ya ever even seen a goblin?” Asr challenged.

Gotta say I was surprised at the emotion that washed over the strong-minded tyke. Nothin’ his siblings ever said seemed to hurt his feelin’s before, but he looked stricken now. He isn’t one to lie. Exaggerate, like any respectable ogre bull, but not lie. I figgered he resented bein’ caught in a doozy of an exaggeration.

“Is secret,” he said softly. “But I’ll go. Ya see.”

“No runnin’ off,” Ren, the oldest, snapped. “I’ll fan yar butt with a stiff switch myself.”

I felt a tug at my heart for my littlest bull. Ren always treats her youngest sibling like royalty. For her to jump on him at that moment rubbed a little cruel.

I spoil my mob. But it’s my job. And I’m particularly good at it.

Asr thankfully stopped teasin’ Ike as his attention was piqued by Torc and their papa’s conversation about the last chores they had to complete before they made their annual trek. My mind wandered as I looked out the frosted glass of the front window, at the frozen surface of the Lake. I selfishly wished Ike was old enough to go. The youngest matched the middle bull’s bulk, maybe even stood a tad taller, despite the four years that separate them.

This most likely would be my last season with Ren and I wouldn’t hate havin’ some special time alone with her. At the clan gatherin’ the first week of spring, she’d no doubt be makin’ her pick between the dozen young bulls who had been wooin’ her the past year. All of the candidates staked out property in the lowlands. The cold highlands of the Range isn’t in their blood. It meant I would rarely see Ren, ever again. She’d be startin’ a family and spendin' every hour buildin' a home with her mate. There would be no time.

“Is Tir goin’ with ya?” Torc asked about his sibling’s dragon mate.

I groaned. Had hoped the rest of the day the conversation about who was goin’ on the hunt was done. Ike glared at Asr.

“Funny story,” Asr said. “Tir told his brothers about our bull outin’. I guess it interested them. All of them are plannin’ a long flight to the western ocean. Turns out Mo’sale has always dreamed of seein’ it. So they’ll be off on their own trek.”

“Iza will be left with her queen, alone?” Ren asked.

Asr grinned.

“Oh, the poor dear.”

“Imagine she’ll stay locked in her barn and hide.” Asr laughed.

“I’m as old as those dragons,” Ike growled. “If they can go, I can go.”

I looked at Ike with the gentlest expression I could manage. Imagine everyone else at the table rolled their eyes. Ike had indeed experienced the wild alone. Maybe Birs should consider takin’ him. He’s a tough little stinkin’ ogreling.

“Mama, we have a rare, blue sky this mornin’. Can I spend some time on the rocks sunnin’ with Tir, and finish my chores this afternoon?” Asr asked.

“Ya did all yar mornin’ chores?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Take Ike with ya,” I said.

He didn’t argue, but puckered up his mouth and snout—out of habit I figgered. The two bull siblings are very close, even though Ike can be as troublesome as a boil on a sunburned buttocks, and the two snarl at each other like two badgers fightin’ for territory.

“I’ll go ask Tir if he wants to go,” Ike offered, slurpin’ down the last of his stew. I didn’t bother mentionin’ the entire outin’ was designed for the dragon. There’s nothin’ happier than a dragon sleepin’ in the sun.

But Asr sat frozen, the way he does when he talks to his dragon knot-head to knot-head. “He’s already stretchin’ out his wings,” he said after a moment.

Ike was already runnin’ for the front door.

“Put on yar hat and coat,” I bellowed.

The habitual, “Ah, Mama,” followed, but he swerved within stride to retrieve them.

~

The cabin was too quiet, with Birs and Torc out workin’ on the fences, Ike and Asr off with Tir’loch. Ren and I finished the mornin’ chores and hurried over to the Inn. Even if the brood of females weren’t in the mood for quiltin’, the gossipin’ and lyin’ would have already started.

All the male-folk of the Hamlet joined us in the dinin’ hall for lunch. I wasn’t surprised Asr and Ike didn’t show up. The two bulls are as obsessive as any I’ve ever met. Asr would read until he lost sun. Ike could entertain himself with about anythin’, and everythin’. Striations of a rock. Line of ants.

It was late afternoon when Ren and I made it back to the cabin. Birs and Torc sat on the hearth warmin’ their backsides, drinkin’ hot tea and talkin’ softly about what they wanted to do on the property next. I looked out the window a while later and saw Asr and Ike leadin’ the animals toward the barn. Twenty minutes later when they walked into the cabin, I noticed immediately Asr wasn’t himself. He remained strangely quiet and moved with methodical motions, not the usual rambunctious young bull, who shouted when a quiet voice sufficed, threw his body forward instead of walkin’.

Ike went about his business, hands reachin’ out to touch everythin’ nearby, eyes never finished with their studyin’. He was in his father’s lap one moment, pesterin’ Torc the next, puttin’ his snout in Ren’s business a moment later. My youngest is a hoot—a frustratin’ hoot. And often a pain in the tush. It’s a good thin’ he owns a heart overly filled with love.

We all sat down to eat dinner. Asr still hadn’t said a word. I tore at a loaf of bread and handed the chunks to each of them when the middle bull finally spoke.

“Papa?” He paused, lookin’ into his plate.

I thought for a moment that his eyes glassed over, but decided it was my imagination. Not talkin’ with his dragon mate.

Asr continued slowly. “I think Ike should come with us on the hunt.”

All of us fell deathly still. Every eye studied Asr, before turnin’ on Birs. My mate’s brow arched, but he didn’t say anythin’.

“I’ll go, I will,” Ike said softly, past a chubby cheek filled with mutton.

I waited for argument. Birs didn’t open his mouth other than to snatch up a new bite of dinner.

All four bulls out of the way for the better part of a week—my mind tittered.

I was surprised I didn’t hold a flinch of a worry for my youngest. But my curiosity flamed over my third child’s magnanimous gesture. He’d resented he had to wait two extra years after Torc first traipsed off with his papa. Now suggestin’ his littlest sibling tag along on Asr’s very first year, much earlier than the other ogrelings, more than bizarre. There was enormous competitiveness between the three.

Hm.

Before Asr left to bed down with his dragon, Tir’loch, in the barn, I found an excuse to make my way out there. Tir already slept of course, and I had to push him hard to wake him. The dragon unwound his long neck. I had to step away to look into his face. He raised a single lid over a droopy golden eye.

“I wondered when ya would be out to interrogate me,” he said in a drowsy voice.

“Interrogate?” I smiled. “Ya did, did ya?”

Tir growled, a dragon’s version of a chuckle.

“What happened out there today?”

“Asr won’t like me tellin’ ya,” Tir complained.

“I can keep a secret as well as anyone,” I said, feelin’ a twinge of guilt. Hadn’t ever actually been very good with that singular skill in the past.

The dragon remained quiet, though he fully opened both eyes. They appeared to have their own luminescence in the dim glow of my lantern. I nudged him in the chin to encourage him to speak up.

“A crazed wolf,” he said.

A wolf. Wolf?

“A rabid wolf?” I prompted when he didn’t continue. “Did one of them get bitten?” I heard my voice go up in scale and volume.

“Probably rabid,” Tir agreed. “It wasn’t actin’ right. Not right for it to come out of the woods like it did, after healthy prey, alone. It had Asr backed against a boulder. I was way up the bluff sunnin’. No one was bitten.”

“And?” I pressed irritably when he didn’t continue.

“Ike was on the animal before I could hardly blink. I didn’t know ya ogres could move that fast.”

“Oh, my gods!”

“Calm yarself, ogre hen. The tyke grabbed the beast by the haunches and flung it side to side against the rocks, like a bird might still a lizard, as though he’d done that a hundred times. He never batted an eye.”

I stared at the dragon, holdin' a hand over my mouth. Maybe I forgot how to breathe for a bit.

“Yar littlest ogreling is a tough little booger,” Tir said, before closin’ his eyes. “I would trust my Asr in his company any day.”

I realized my knees shook and tears trailed down my cheek. Needed to breathe. The barn felt much warmer than it should.

How in the world do I keep that to myself durin’ the next quiltin’ bee?

“I knew ya couldn’t keep it secret,” the dragon mumbled sleepily as he wound his long neck around his body again. A moment later a lazy snore flowed from the dragon’s toothy snout.

~