Chapter 6
Lucas
~
A hail echoed and I dusted the hay off my shoulders and sleeves as I walked for the barn door. Surprised Iza didn’t warn me someone neared. When I saw her sleepin’ in the bright, spring sun, I smiled. It’s a good thin’ dragons kept to the heights before they made peace with the two-legged races. They wouldn’t have survived on the ground otherwise. They sleep too soundly.
“Ya’ll need one of those noisy creatures that neighbor has, Bick I think his name is, if ya want to be forewarned of visitors.”
The voice made me jerk. I was so wrapped up thinkin’ about the beautiful dragon I almost forgot why I came outside.
“Didn’t mean to startle ya, farmer. Ya have a nice stand of vegetables started there. I’m surprised the nights are warm enough up here to see sprouts already.”
Lydia came out on the porch with little Gladys on her hip. Her scowl over the herd of goblins litterin’ the front lawn was unmistakable. She turned and went back into the cabin, lettin’ the door slam.
“Welcome, Maertin.”
“Ya sure I am?” he asked.
“Yar bow isn’t strung. You aren’t carryin’ a spiked club. Ya’re welcome here.”
The goblin motioned toward the cabin.
“Ah.” I flicked some stragglin’ hay off my chest. “It may take a while for everyone to come to trust yar kind. Ya expect otherwise?”
Iza woke and raised her head. Half-closed eyes took in the visitors.
“Greetings, queen,” the goblin called to her.
“Ya’ve returned.”
“Ya’re lookin’ magnificent today,” Maertin said.
“Goblins like to flatter, do they?” Iza asked. Her chest rumbled in a dragon chuckle.
“Only when it’s true.”
The dragon fluttered the tips of her enormous wings, I thought a little flirty-like. Not that I lean toward jealousy. But, maybe I should flatter her from time to time.
“What brings ya to the Valley?” I asked.
“The new Covenant says we can come and trade. So we’ve come to exercise our right.”
“Ya don’t have to speak so formally to me, Maertin. I’m on yar side.”
“So you admit there are sides?”
I puckered up my lips. “There will be if ya stride into the Hamlet with a chip on yar shoulder.”
The goblin smiled, showin’ his needle-sharp teeth. “Point taken.”
“S’pose ya’d like me to escort ya to the other side of the Lake? Ya know, to ease the goin’?”
“Ya read my mind. If ya aren’t otherwise disposed,” Maertin said.
“Give me a moment to slake my thirst and change my shirt. May I offer ya anythin’?”
“Thank ya, but we just visited a crystal stream over the way.”
~
When I stepped out of the cabin, Roger strode from the woods with our mule, draggin’ a felled and trimmed tree for firewood. My brother nodded at the goblins. His expression was more worried than I would have liked.
I helped Roger unharness Mabel. “I’ll ride her over to the Hamlet, put her up when I get back,” I said, takin’ the mule’s reins. “Their legs,” I shrugged toward Maertin and his folk, “are a little long to try to keep up with ’em.”
Roger only grunted, before walkin’ away.
I jumped on the mule and struggled to get her to walk near the goblins. They liked her as much as she liked them.
“I’ll be back in a bit”, I told Iza.
“I’ll go visit with Tir,” she said. “This should be interestin’.”
~
The few humans bravin’ the chill on the veranda disappeared quickly when I approached the Inn with our eastern visitors, but Braes, Bick, and Eina came out to greet the newcomers a moment later. Orc Janding and the other year-round residents joined us soon afterward, as the goblins lay out the goods they brought to trade.
Janding eagerly grabbed up all of their crafts for the gallery. They had leather and silver works that Braes and Bick split up among them. The goblins grinned with their unexpected success, but the barterin’ was interrupted as several guests streamed out of the Inn carryin’ their bags, noses in the air.
“Won’t be returning as long as you have goblins about, Master Braes,” one man said.
The elf followed them down the stairs, but turned back, holdin’ his head up high. “Don’t need to go apologizin’ for good will,” he said under his breath to me.
Within hours, all of the human guests of the Inn had checked out. There weren’t many this early in the season, but Sylvia told me days later that Braes was takin’ the exodus very hard. The next day the rumor was fire hot that the guests that arrived the afternoon of the goblins’ visit, left the next mornin’.
The following weeks passed without a new guest arrivin’.
~
I was chattin’ with Roger about Braes’ poor fortune as we worked on the fence that kept the deer and rabbits out of our garden. Iza had gotten a bit lackadaisical about the deer—durn her. Just too many elk a few wing flaps away, I guess.
“What’d ya expect?” Roger asked. “We’re talkin’ about goblins.”
“But guests accepted the clan of orcs without blinkin’,” I argued. “They were as much to blame for the atrocities as the goblins durin’ the wars. Say the stories.”
“Look at the difference between the two races. Who do ya really think did the killin’? The runty orcs, or the giants?”
“There’s somethin’ more goin’ on here than we’re aware,” I muttered.
“Yeah, like humans hate goblins.”
“No. There’s been some kind of conspiracy hatched,” I said.
“Conspiracy?”
“That human from Caern.” Anger streamed out with my words. “The one who came here last fall to build the stockade, the one who participated on the council. I don’t trust him. I’ll bet ya he has somethin’ to do with this, or knows why Master Braes has been boycotted.”
“Most thin’s are as simple as they appear,” Roger said.
“And sometimes a checker move isn’t just a mindless move.”
“If ya’re that serious about it—” Roger paused. “I think papa would advise ya to follow through with yar thoughts. I, on the other hand, hope ya shut up and keep to yar chores.”
I eased a smile Roger’s way. Cogitated as I piled rocks along the bottom of the fence’s wire we’d toiled on. “Dang rabbits,” I muttered. Left to their own, they’d nibble along, night after night, until there wasn’t a thin’ left worthwhile. That seemed a little relevant to our conversation. All it took was one little mind vomitin’ ill will, and time.
“I’ll be leavin’ for Caern first thin’ in the mornin’,” I said after a bit.
Roger said, “I was afraid of that.”
~
I stopped to visit my parents on the way. It had only been a few weeks since I’d dropped by, but Iza fillin’ the whole tiny plaza down the street always draws a crowd. It gave me an opportunity to speak to a number of the elders of the village who know a little of the goin’s on. All agreed about the man I needed to speak with. The son of a prominent estate owner outside Caern. Johanson is their family name.
My mama and papa gave me a big hug as I pulled the bag over my shoulder carryin’ the preserves Mama gave me. Iza trumpeted her goodbyes to all who welcomed her in the plaza.
~
The enormous estate flowed from one gently rollin’ hill after another. Groves of citrus, pecan, and walnut, split up massive fields. One contained cattle, another sheep, another stately-lookin’ horses.
“Oh, those look like they would taste wonderful,” Iza said, as soon as we landed.
I looked over at the adjacent field, where expensive stallions lined the fence studyin’ us, snortin’ challenges at the dragon. More attitude than brains.
“Ya can go huntin’ south when we get home,” I suggested. “Those beauties are off limits.” One of ’em were worth more than Roger and I could ever pull together in a lifetime.
A deep growl came from her chest, which wasn’t a laugh. The horses reared and ran. Perhaps, was her intention.
“I certainly recognize you.”
I turned to face the man I’d come to speak to. “Is it the freckles?” I asked dryly.
“I think the golden dragon tipped me off.”
“Had to be one or the other.” I pulled off my cold-weather gear.
The man’s eyes remained glued on Iza, who ignored him. That meant somethin’ to me. Dragons, I’ve learned, have a natural and surreal knack for sensin’ the integrity of those around them. She turned and waddled out to the broad, immaculately mowed lawn, and lay down to sun.
“Her wings cover an acre of grass,” the man said in awe.
His covetous gaze sent a shaft of ire across my chest. I had no interest in sharin’ pleasantries with the man. “Ya know why I’m here.”
Johanson slowly pulled his eyes away from Iza.
“Right to it, huh? You people got what you wanted. You have your goblin friends.”
I considered allowin’ Iza to go destroy all of Johanson’s beautiful stallions. Not that I’d ever do such a thin’.
“So yar bigotry has no bounds, does it?” I asked.
“Come now.” His smile only faltered a midge. “We’re making a decision, like you all did.”
“Our decision was for peace, to welcome those who had nothin’ to do with acts committed two centuries ago.”
The Johanson heir laughed. “You put your faith in whomever you trust. We choose not to deal with them.”
“Bigotry has a way of expandin'. Ya seem intelligent—should realize that. It’s like a sickness. It will take in all of ya, and we’ll all pay. What do ya think led to the wars to begin with?”
“I wasn’t there, and neither were you,” Johanson said. “And since the goblins burned down every structure across the land, there aren’t too many records of the period.”
“Humans have been tradin’ with the ogres in the west for decades. Did ya know they’re willin’ to ban humans from their territory?” I lied. But with the thought, an idea sprung.
Johanson’s smile faded a little.
“The land worth farmin’ north of the Range is staked now,” I continued. “Imagine all those folks who’d have liked to settle in the South, bein’ stopped at the plains.”
The man chuckled, but his expression was noticeably uncomfortable. “You need us more than we need you.”
“I don’t know. I’ve flown over these parts. There’s hardly a stand of woods left in the North. Ya get what ya need now from our forests.”
“We have plenty of forests.”
“Lumber grade?”
The man didn’t say anythin’.
“When all of the orcs and goblins stream in from the eastern deserts,” I continued, “trolls and ogres from the West Plains, and the daemons from the South, because they know they won’t have to worry with humans, ya’ll find a wall separatin’ ya from the greater part of the world. That would be a shame.”
“You’re talking nonsense, all those races coming together against humans.”
I laughed. Sincerely. Hadn’t they before? “Do ya have a clue who fought in the wars against humans?”
The man’s expression sobered.
“I’m travelin’ far north next,” I told him. “It’ll be interestin’ to see what the elves think about yar dangerous posturin’. Wouldn’t surprise me if they stop tradin’ with ya too.”
I didn’t wait to see if the man had anythin’ more to say. It was dawnin’ on me how much power the folk of the Valley have at our fingertips. None of the races I mentioned had any love for humans. They wouldn’t have the slightest compunction, I believe, to follow the scenario that popped into my head as I spoke to the arrogant Northerner.
I put on my cold gear as I walked to Iza. She grumbled mentally in my mind, enjoyin’ the sun. She wasn’t ready to leave. “Lazy dragon,” I teased.
~
Roger sprinted from the porch. “My—Lord!” he shouted. “I didn’t expect ya to be gone over a week. Are ya well? What happened?”
“Perfectly well.”
Roger physically pulled me off Iza, raisin’ a bit of irritation in her, and clutched me in a bear hug. “Ya had me worried ya—ya—ball of rabbit dung. Ya could have stopped by here for a moment when ya visited the local dwarves.”
“Ah. Ya heard about that?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. A strip of wood hasn’t left the Valley since. It’s been awful peaceful. If it wasn’t for the baby, we would have overslept a time or two. Those silly dwarves like to go to work too early. I haven’t heard a single axe.”
I grinned. Roger patted Iza on the shoulder, before turnin’ and draggin’ me toward the cabin, askin’ a dozen questions without slowin’ down. He only interrupted himself to talk about the number of ogres and trolls strollin’ into the Hamlet to trade.
“Seems like there’s a high demand for goblin craftsmanship these days,” Roger said.
Lydia served me a bowl of stew, and I told them about all the clan councils I’d spoken to in the last ten days. “To a one,” I said, “they agreed to stop tradin’ with the Northerners until the situation changes.”
“Ya pissant,” Roger mumbled. “Who gave ya the right to go fiddlin’ with world commerce?”
“If ya’d been with me when I spoke to that self-righteous, pompous arse Johanson, ya’d been leadin’ the way.”
Lydia poured her husband a fresh cup of coffee and leaned next to him and whispered, “Are ya sure yar parents wanted ya to take care of him, give him manly direction, or was it the other way around?”
~
Three weeks later, near dusk, orc Janding arrived on his dragon, Syl’loch. I strolled from the barn to greet them. My friend didn’t dismount.
“Eina sent me to fetch ya,” he said. “A herd, I mean, delegation of humans have arrived and want to negotiate.”
“Who else are ya goin’ for,” I asked, wipin’ the soap off my face that didn’t come off with my razor.
Janding looked at me blankly. “Just ya.”
“We need to collect representatives of all the races and local clans. Can ya fetch the Western ogre leader in the mornin’, and get Asr and Tir’loch to collect the other local elders?”
Hm. Should I take the time to fly north to bring back an elven leader?
Janding nodded. “Where’re ya goin’?
“Iza and I have a little bit farther to fly.”
Janding grinned. “By the way. How long have ya been shavin’?”
“Oh, a long time.” I smiled back at my friend. “Once a season whether I need to or not.”
~
As Iza landed on the narrow, green plateau, the crags above erupted with goblins no more happy than the first time we arrived. Iza rumbled her discomfort as hundreds of the giants streamed down the rocks, bows at the ready.
I stayed on Iza’s back and removed my hat and gloves, unlooped the front of my coat. “Is Maertin here?” I asked the first who met us.
As I asked it, I saw the bull makin’ his way down from the heights. I slid down Iza’s shoulder and walked into the throng of goblins, who must have finally decided I was no threat and lowered their weapons.
“Didn’t expect to see ya again so soon,” Maertin said as he neared.
I didn’t answer until the two of us stood on equal ground. It was bad enough lookin’ up at the creature when we stood side by side on flat ground. We shook hands. The bull’s long fingers wrapped around my hand oddly. In that, they have somethin’ in common with the long-limbed trolls. Beside their height.
“Hope ya’re well, my young friend,” Maertin said.
“Are ya up to wagin’ peace?” I asked.
The goblin shook his head. “Wagin’? Peace? Ya humans are too abrupt.” He squinched up one side of his long face. “Ya need to watch and listen to yar friends the elves more. Learn somethin’ about proper social interaction.”
“Ya’re probably right,” I muttered. “I’m fine. Ya’re fine. Will ya come with me?”
The bull threw back his head and laughed. “Can ya wait long enough for me to grab a coat?”
~
The Hamlet’s other two dragons and their riders met us over the western foothills and escorted us back. Iza’s two middle brothers, and another unexpected visitor, Iza’s sire, sunned along the southern bank of the Lake. The welcomin’ trumpets filled the sky with panicked birds.
Landin’, I slid down Iza’s shoulder and watched with humor as the goblin tentatively climbed down. Maertin turned abruptly when he caught the form of the daemon walkin’ toward us from our barn. The two stood facin’ each other like two bull-elks ready to fight for a harem.
“Maertin. Drazy,” I said, makin’ their introductions.
Both of the giants narrowed their eyes.
“I thought yar kind were nothin’ more than a plot in a child’s story,” the goblin finally said. “Been a lot of years since one of yar kind made it this far north.” He turned to me with a quizzical expression, but I remained silent.
“We’ve done well to stay out of the other race’s troubles,” the daemon, Drazy, answered.
“And yet here ya are,” Maertin said.
“My hands, like yars, hold no weapon.”
“Are ya through with the chit chat?” I interrupted. “I have a lot to tell ya before we go across the Lake.”
Maertin smiled, and nodded to the daemon. “Yar young, human friend is very impatient.”
“If it wasn’t for his dragon,” Drazy said, “I wouldn’t trust him a lick, would ya?”
The two giants laughed, one high pitched, the other deep. Goblin and daemon seemed interested to stand about and get better acquainted, which didn’t help my sense of urgency.
~
I held no interest, truly, in sittin’ at the table. With the adults. But knowin’ I made the meetin’ possible in the first place, it irritated me that neither Eina nor Bick, or Braes, insisted I join them. Six sunnin’ dragons covered the waterfront before the Inn. If Iza wasn’t so comfortable and contented lazin’ with her sedge, I would have asked her to take me away, anywhere.
It was very special to her that her brothers and sire joined her to show strength and solidarity for the Hamlet. I thought back to how meanly Iza spoke of her brothers when I first met her. I looked down from the veranda, notin’ the wings of each dragon slightly overlay each other in a gentle touch. In greetin’, the six had nuzzled in a manner I’d never observed before.
My thoughts were interrupted with a new sense of agitation from my dragon-mate. She rose and her head swayed. The other five bulls joined her. They all rumbled deep in their chests, anxiety I had only heard in Iza but once.
I looked into the sky and saw what I expected. Their queen soared over the Lake toward us. This could be very bad.
Gnomes popped out of the ethereal in droves, all around the dragons. They sang, reachin’ out to calm the six dragons. I found myself standin’ at the banister without rememberin’ how I got there. The queen’s far-off trumpet flushed birds into the air for miles around. I felt reassurin’ hands on my shoulders, and looked down at Sylvia and Gladys standin’ to my left and right.
Iza and the five bulls continued to keen loudly. The door of the Inn opened and the delegates streamed out.
Ash’et neared. I sucked in my breath. The queen hadn’t been to the Hamlet in at least four years, or was it five? Couldn’t remember. The last time she was here, she nearly killed several of the locals, launchin’ in anger. She descended fast. Her clutch and mate quieted, lay submissively prone on the grass.
She glided right at the Inn. For a moment I worried she might crash into the veranda.
Everyone on the broad porch lurched back, some scatterin’ for the boardwalk. At the last moment, Ash’et thrust down hard and came to a stop in midair, literally hoverin’, until she slowly lowered to the ground, wings seemin’ only to twist.
Didn’t know they could do that.
She left her wings partly outstretched, castin’ an ominous shadow across the veranda, before dramatically foldin’ them together.
“Who here—speaks—for the human delegation?” she asked, in her unpracticed Standish.
The silver-maned gentleman I only knew as the senior Johanson, stepped forward. “I do.”
Ash’et extended her neck, lowerin’ her head to the man’s level. Her nostrils flared smellin’ the scent of the man on the air. I didn’t know a dragon could glare. I sensed the—call it unease—rollin’ off the queen.
“Were ya alive durin’ the wars?” she asked. It was more a challenge, certainly no true question. She exhaled in a rush as she said the last word. The heavy odor of her musk washed over the veranda.
“Of course not,” the elder Johanson said.
“I was!” Ash’et hissed. An overt growl rose from her chest.
Johanson said, “There was nervous peace for many decades before the Covenant was finally signed, and that was well over two centuries ago.”
“Yar point?” Her head slid forward and her muzzle pulled back exposin’ her twelve-inch-long, bronze-tinged teeth.
I know it was no attempt to smile. Not somethin’ Ash’et would be inclined to do, ever. Especially not to a human she clearly despised.
“Ya ridiculous lesser creatures,” the dragon continued, “have no clue ya’re followin’ the same path of yar forefathers. Put yar differences behind ya today and avoid repeatin’ history. Several fold more died durin’ the wars than have been born and died since.
“Re-open the borders. Trade among all. Come together. Accept the goblins and the few orcs who have survived. They’re starvin’ in the deserts. Allow the trolls to reclaim their property north, or the resentment will fester, mark my words.”
The silence vibrated across the veranda. The queen turned slowly, no doubt tryin’ to avoid lookin’ clumsy, which the race can’t really escape on the ground. She launched and the other six dragons followed her one at a time, each first with a dramatic look over their shoulder at the folk linin’ the terrace.
My chest tightened in a knot as Iza soared away. She didn’t say a word to me before leavin’. She had never done that before.
A lot of firsts, for one day.
~
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