Hamlet Thriving (Black Lake book 2)

Chapter 7
Ren

~

“Mama, I don’t know if I can leave the Hamlet, ya, and Papa, Ike.”

“Ya stood before the clan and announced yar selection,” Tiff reminded me unnecessarily. “Kind of hard to deny Angus now.”

“I don’t deny Angus, I deny the lowlands.”

Tiff grinned. “For years ya’ve been tellin’ me ya’re tired of the winters up here. Now that yar wish is ready to be fulfilled, ya’re changin’ yar mind? Doesn’t sound like any ogre-thinkin’ to me. Sounds more wishy washy humanish. Maybe we’ve erred lettin’ ya spend so much time with Gladys, Silvia and the others.”

“Oh, don’t talk so silly,” I snapped.

Steam filled the space between us as Mama poured off the water from the boiled tomatoes to a fresh pot. I gently snagged the fruit with tongs and placed them into jars, Mama followin’ behind tightenin’ lids on them.

“Ya know Asr and Tir’lock will be able to bring ya back often to visit,” Mama said, drawin’ a stray, gray hair out of her face.

“I’ve listened to every word ya’ve ever muttered, Mama. I know once I have ogrelings crawlin’ all over the place there’ll never be time.”

“Is it those dreams?” Mama asked.

“They don’t help.”

“Ya’ve realized as long as I have,” Tiff said, lowerin’ her voice to a whisper, as though if it were heard by others, it would make it reality all the sooner. “Ike will be a wanderer. I don’t even know how long I have with him. Besides, yar preference for yar youngest bull sibling isn’t fair.”

“I almost wish the winter hunt hadn’t gone well for Ike.” I puckered up my lips and my tusks tickled my lips. I chose to ignore my mama’s remark about favoritism. Tears marked my cheeks and I dabbed them away quickly. “Out there he’s in his element, like a wild animal.”

“He was always a wild one, especially when he started his bam stage.” Tiff chuckled.

“Ya don’t suppose if he bonded with one of the two free dragons, that he’d feel free to wander and return, do ya?”

Mama turned and studied me for a moment, placin’ a fist on her wide hip. “Ya should have a cup of warm milk before ya go to bed at night. Yar dreams are gettin’ out of hand.” She turned back to fillin’ the emptied pot with fresh tomatoes.

“Ya didn’t answer my question,” I challenged.

“Well, first, the moment he and one of those dragons got together, we’d probably never see hide nor hair of either of them again.”

My eyes teared again.

“But,” Mama continued, “ya told me yarself Iza said her bull siblings are likely too old now to be impressionable enough to bond.”

“She didn’t outright say age had anythin’ to do with bondin’,” I argued.

Mama covered the fresh tomatoes with the poured-off hot water and replaced the giant pot over the fire again. I turned and strode to the porch. Papa and my oldest bull sibling rolled their wheelbarrows toward the growin’ rock pier.

Papa has more energy than any two ogres.

I looked up at the sun and realized the dinner rush at the Inn would soon be startin’.

“Torc.”

“I know,” he called over his shoulder.

~

Guests already sat about the dinin’ hall, but they looked entertained with their knittin’, books, card decks, or checker boards. I searched out Bick as my evil plot still formed in my mind. Bick walked out of Braes’ office. The elf and human chatted. Bick had his regular grin scrawled across his face, and the elf’s brow formed its normal vee, as though he was contemplatin’ someone’s funeral.

I stepped behind the tall counter and grabbed Bick’s sleeve and gave him an ogre’s growl for attention. The human didn’t bat an eye. He had spent half a life around giants to understand our assertive wiles. I enjoy workin’ with the human exactly for that reason—I could be myself.

Bick followed me out to the veranda and along the breezeway to the storefronts until we had privacy.

“What’s bothering ya, hen?”

“I need a devious mind to help me escape a situation,” I told him.

He grinned. “If it’s devious ya want, ya should be speaking to that Lucas.”

Bick sobered under my glare.

“Whatever he knows,” I said, “Iza knows, and whatever she knows, Tir would know, and whatever he knows, my sibling would know, and no other ogre can know. It would ruin my life.”

“Those stinkin’ dragons and their empathetic mates. They’ve ruined this Hamlet, haven’t they?”

I didn’t smile. Even though it was a bit funny.

“Ya’re too young to be so sour, hen,” he mumbled.

~

Torc whispered to me, “I was at the hardware store runnin’ an errand. Saw the clan leader talkin’ with Papa.”

What was that bull doin’ in the highlands? I froze and my heart quickened. Mind flicked back to my Inn responsibilities as I snarled at the girl collectin’ an armload of plates. “Garnishes!”

The human wisp-of-a-thing jumped and nearly dropped two of the plates lined up her arm. “I’m sorry,” she blurted.

Eina called across to the girl from the other side of the counter. “Relax, darlin’. Ogres only think they have to sound like they’re ready to rip off yar head. If they were actually gonna do it, ya would never hear a thing.”

The girl tried to grin. “That makes me feel ever so much better.”

Sylvia and Gladys cackled, like two fools. I didn’t understand the humor of it, nor felt up to listenin’ to their human banter. I turned and followed my bull sibling out of the kitchen. Servers flew by me, but I ignored the busy commotion. Walked out the front door and stood on the veranda, lookin’ to the west, to see if I could get a glimpse of Papa and the clan elder. No particular reason why. Fear? Curiosity?

I got more than a glimpse. The two bulls stood in the middle of the field, turned and looked my way. My face turned red hot. How long will I be able to hold them off? I pivoted, anxious to get away from the bulls’ glare, and returned inside.

Bick caught my eye and gave me a wink. I needed more than a wink to help me relax. It was takin’ too long. It was a simple plan. If I could only include one of the dragon riders, it would make it so much easier. I thought of Janding, but wondered if an orc would complicate it. And still, what Janding knew, all the other dragons knew. Stinkin’ dragon riders.

How forceful would Papa be tonight?

He leaned a little in Angus’ favor. A bull needed his hen, and all of that. I promised myself months ago. It was the fault of the method of it all. If only ogres did the marryin’ off more like humans. They have it so easy.

~

For weeks everyone about the Hamlet avoided me, since I shredded everyone who spoke a word to me. Couldn’t help my mood. I’m an ogre, after all. I have grave thoughts on my mind. And as Papa would say, I’m a stinkin’ hen. I went home every night and held Ike close, and read to him. It was what I looked forward to all day, every day, yet when I was with him, my heart still ached.

I ironically hated to be home. Felt as though my mama and papa’s eyes followed me every inch I moved. I could scream. Listened to every footstep like it would be the whole council comin’ to demand I set a date.

There was a knock and I jerked. Papa walked to the door and swung it open slowly, the homemade hinge singin’ its forlorn song.

“Sorry to interrupt so late in the evenin’, sir.”

Oh, gods. It was Angus. He was here himself to demand it.

“Would ya allow me a few minutes to have a word with yar daughter?” he asked Papa.

Papa smiled toward the blackness outside and waved the visitor, his future son-in-law, to come in—funny how easily I found myself usin’ that humanish term.

“It be a bit of a private matter, sir, if ya don’t mind.”

“Understand,” Papa said.

He turned and looked at me, one eye closed, his head tipped down oddly. Some message I couldn’t decode. I nodded to him and strode to the door, followed Angus down the walkway.

“Good to see ya, Ren,” he said.

“Marvelous to see ya, Angus. Look at that moon. Isn’t it marvelous?”

He looked up into the sky. “Marvelous.”

“Yes, marvelous,” I repeated. “Marvelous. Marvelous evenin’.”

“Yes, marvelous.” But he studied the ground now.

He reached out and took my hand, and a stingin’ sensation swept over me, a feelin’ I couldn’t describe. A little like when I get out of bed in the mornin’ and placed my hands in cold water to wash my face before makin’ it to the outhouse. But the itch didn’t just sting me in the belly. It struck through the shoulders, down to my toes.

“Ya’re shiverin’,” Angus murmured. “Nights are so cold up here in the highlands.”

We were silent way too long. I worried Papa might come out to chaperon us. Nothin’ could be worse, that moment. We made it to the new rock pier and stood lookin’ out across the blackness of the Lake, as though our eyes could see its beauty in the dark. Though the gleam of the near-full moon glimmered off of it sharply.

“Say it, Angus, my goodness.”

He stammered a moment, searchin’ for a way to begin. I squeezed his hand tight, which seemed to calm him.

“I know—ya—were always lookin’ forward to movin’ to the lowlands,” he said, “even though lately ya’ve been frettin’ about leavin’ yar family here in the Valley. So I wanted to tell ya about an offer I received from a peculiar young bull the other day. I doubt ya will be interested, but thought I’d tell ya.

“Ya know that fancy city-lookin’ place bein’ built on that narrow strip of property Master Coedwig’s sold off a month or so ago? The bull decided he didn’t prefer the cold up here after all, and has offered to do an even swap with our homestead. I think he’s crazy, but—”

“That horrid big place with all the glass facin’ the Lake, with the wraparound porch and a half-dozen fireplaces?”

“It would be a fair walk, but ya could continue workin’ at the Inn for as long as ya wanted,” he said. “Not much room for a garden, but enough to make do.”

“I would have to think about it. Would it make ya happy, Angus?”

“I ’magine my blood would thicken,” he said. “To this cold.”

I heard his smile in the dark, caught the moon’s glow off his tusks.

“Ya would be a ways from yar family, though,” I said.

He chuckled. “My papa gave me one bit of advice a while back. He said, ‘It’s good to get away from yar own mama, and keep yar mate close to hers, to have peace.’ I’ve learned over the years he’s a pretty bright bull, so maybe I should take the advice.”

I wrapped his neck in a hug. “I reckon ya should accept the bull’s offer then,” I whispered in his ear, before markin’ his neck with a tusk. The sting worked its way through my chest. I pulled away feelin’ a little like a harlot, but my chest was about to explode in excitement, so my guilt evaporated quickly. I started to run for the cabin and stopped.

“By the way,” I said. “What do ya say to a ceremony Saturday after next? We could do it on that enormous deck of our new place.”

“I—uh—I—think—that—that’d—probably—be marvelous.” He stood with his hand coverin’ his neck where I nicked him good. The moon glinted in his enormous eyes. “Ya ’spose it’ll be finished by then? It’s hardly framed out.”

“Oh, sure.”

“How can ya be so sure?”

“Well—ya know—Master Coedwig—ya know—he eats at the Inn a lot. He told me it would be.”

I turned and ran. I couldn’t wait to grab my mama and dance around the cabin with her, to give Ike a love-paddle on the behind, and give Torc and Asr a poke in the arm. I’d have to thank Papa for givin’ me such a fine dowry. He would say, “What else do I work for?”

~