Chapter Eight
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I slipped down the dragon’s shoulder and fell to the ground, goin’ to one knee. I swallowed hard and took shallow breaths tryin’ to keep from losin’ my stomach. Again Ike failed to communicate somethin’ I woulda liked to know.
The spinnin’, back-thrustin’, gut-bustin’ maneuver the gray dragon performed at the tree level left my heart hangin’ on a tree branch somewhere up there. I looked up as though I might see it danglin’, bein’ attacked by hungry black birds. When most of the nausea passed, I grabbed my staff off the ground and held it, ready to plow it into the dragon rider’s head. Only the young bull’s smile kept me from doin’ it.
“That was a blood pumper, wasn’t it?” Ike’s head bobbed like he was an ogreling talkin’ about a bet over a marble game. “Not a lot of space between those ancient limbs.”
“Ya’re dangerous,” I muttered after I mostly controlled myself. I stabbed the butt end of my staff into the Earth. “Do somethin’ like that again and I’ll turn yar tusks green.” I drew from the ethereal, inclined the staff toward the ogre, and a jet of electricity rushed from my fist into Ike’s belly.
“Owwww!” After a five-count he shouted, “How’d ya do that?”
The words met my back. I’d already turned for my cabin. Delia stood on the porch lookin’ at me. Her mouth hung open, white showed completely around the dark centers of her eyes.
“You certainly know how to make a dramatic entrance,” she mumbled, pullin’ the fur higher around her shoulders. She glared past me at Ike and Taiz’lin. “Didn’t suspect you’d interrupt the privacy here with others.”
I stopped. Some of the anger rushed out of me as I considered for the first time that the woman might not appreciate the presence of others. I thought of the stones from her sling I barely managed to dodge, the first time I came too near.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a near whisper. “But I was eager to get back with food. And they’ve been so generous to supply ya with everythin’ ya need to get back on yar feet.”
Before I could continue to explain that a dangerous band of goblins might be slinkin’ about the forest nearby, it was my turn to talk to someone’s back. She limped into the cabin and closed the door, hard. My staff hummed with the intensity of my terror, that I may have harmed the fragile trust the woman had begun developin’ for me.
I swallowed. The clinkin’ of packages bein’ lowered from the dragon forced me to put my concerns off for the time bein’. I stepped forward, leaned my staff against the porch rail, and rejoined Ike.
“Ya didn’t say the human hen was such a beautiful creature,” Ike said.
The statement struck me oddly. Was she beautiful? I didn’t even know. I’ve spent most of my life in the forest. Had little to compare to. But I did recognize I didn’t have to struggle to gaze upon her.
“Are ya all right?” Ike asked. “Did ya hit yar head or somethin’ when we threaded the needle of yar little clearin’?”
I heard Taiz’lin speak to his rider—silently. “His expression reminds me of how I felt the first time my eyes settled upon Iza.”
“Oh my,” Ike said. He whirled around to make himself busy with the tow sacks full of friendly-plunder.
“What’s he mean?” I asked, bendin’ over to help free packages from the single rope bindin’ them together. Ike peered at me for a moment before he looked away again.
“Ya can hear Taiz’lin? Besides me, only one other soul hears him.” Ike cleared his throat. There was no sarcastic gleam in his eye as there usually is. “Don’t listen to him. Dragons aren’t particularly bright. Most of what they say is nonsense to begin with.”
Taiz’lin snorted loudly. His head swung around catchin’ the ogre hard in his backside, sendin’ him flyin’ into the air. I considered the hard, rough, knobby ridges that run across the top of the dragon’s snout. The strike had to hurt. Ike’s holler of pain didn’t dispute my assumption.
“Ya scarred up has-been,” Ike muttered.
“I wouldn’t make it worse if I were ya,” I whispered. My words were cut off by Taiz’lin’s trumpet.
“With that attitude, ogre,” Taiz’lin said, “ya can walk home. Bring a more compromisin’ mood with ya or ya might not be sleepin’ in my lair for some time.”
The creature hurtled into the air, forcin’ the two of us to leap out of the way of its claw-spiked wings.
“Oh, go act the spoiled baby,” Ike bellowed at the sky.
“Ya need to remember who yar superior is,” shot into my forehead like a knife, makin’ me double over with pain.
“Ahhh. That was uncalled for,” Ike said. His grimace showed the pain that slowly faded from my own head. Ike stood lookin’ at the tiny patch of blue above us. “I can’t believe he did that. He’s threatened to kill me more times than I can count. It just takes a more bitin’ insult to make him laugh.”
“Maybe it was because ya belittled the emotion he holds for Iza,” I said.
Ike’s expression hinted he didn’t really want to hear anyone else’s bit of wisdom. He bent over and picked up his ornate bow and inspected it for damage. He wiped the dust off of it as though he cared for a temple relic. I stood watchin’ him for a moment, until Ike noticed the attention.
“What?”
“Ya aren’t really plannin’ on goin’ after a clan of goblins by yarself, are ya?”
“Of course not. I’ll have Lucas at my side.”
I snorted.
“Ya make it sound like we’re goin’ warrin’,” Ike said. “Besides, we’re only lookin’ to meet up with their scout. Have a chat. Explain how things work here abouts.”
“Oh. That sounds much more reasonable.”
Ike picked up two tow sacks and held them out to me. “Make yarself useful.”
Carryin’ several bags, Ike passed me headin’ for the cabin. “Grow a spine, ogre. Ya’re welcome to come along to protect us from the mean goblin.” He cackled.
The uncharacteristic, high-pitched laugh made me smile. I watched the young ogre walk away in his lurchin’ way, as though each forward step slid a tad. He’s nearly as tall as a troll, with shoulders nearly as wide. If Ike could use his bow as big as he spoke, he’s surely one to pay attention to. But he could probably charm most any creature into submission.
Ike tromped onto the narrow porch and pounded on the door with a knuckle. “Permission to enter, ma’am?”
His voice sounded tinny, younger, unthreatenin’. I had to smile. The ogre had assumed another personality for the benefit of a skittish human. Ike only paused for a second before openin’ the door and traipsin’ in.
“How ya do, ma’am? I’m here to extend the good wishes of the folk of Black Lake.”
I followed Ike into the cabin, not terribly surprised to see Delia sittin’ on my bunk, pressed as far into the corner as she could get. Her eyes were thin slits, unblinkin’. The young ogre bull ignored her countenance, and kept chattin’ as though she had greeted him warmly.
“I have gifts from every household,” he continued. “We hope to be able to help ya create a new home.” He pulled somethin’ from his pocket and stepped near the cot, placin’ a small object on the fur. “That’s a gift from a four-year-old friend of mine who lives on the South Shore. It’s his favorite. He’s beat me in many a game with it. He pert near broke into tears when he gave it up. I’m sure ya’ll appreciate it as much as he did.”
Delia stared at the object. Ike remained quiet for a few moments as he pulled other items from sacks and placed them on the table. Delia finally reached out and picked up the first gift. My eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dim light in the cabin, so only guessed what it might be. She held it up to the light twistin’ it about between two fingers. Her expression softened.
“The pastry chef of the inn sent these,” Ike said, reachin’ inside his deer-leather vest. “I hope they didn’t get too mashed up, the way Morgan yanked on me like a hen.”
He unrolled a thin, linen towel onto the table to display two rolls the size of potatoes, and a large square—chocolate. I could easily distinguish the bitter smell mixin’ with the too-sweet and bready aroma of the other.
“If ya haven’t spent time around ogres, ma’am, understand we don’t have much need for sweets. But these are two of my favorite humanish things in the world. I hope ya enjoy them.”
Ike continued to talk, unpackin’ without lookin’ directly at Delia. Amazed me how expertly the young ogre recognized and dealt with the woman’s sense of discomfort. He explained who sent each of the items he withdrew, told little stories about the previous owners. I moved away and squatted against the front wall, allowin’ Ike to continue in his own way. Delia’s eyes followed his every move, but they shifted from distrust to interest.
Ike walked to the door to retrieve the two sacks I brought in, and Delia rose quickly from the cot and took one of the pastries, returnin’ to her place in the corner. A moment later she uttered her first sound since we arrived, groanin’ with pleasure over the cream puff.
“It has custard inside,” she said softly, dreamily.
She made lickin’ noises. Ike turned to me, a mischievous grin on his face. “Too bad ya won’t get a chance to taste one. They’re both for her.”
My chest tightened as I sensed the woman’s aura change. I struggled to take slow breaths. My staff glimmered, and Ike jerked to watch the emanation. But the young ogre didn’t speak of it. He continued to talk to Delia as he removed more gifts.
Five sacks emptied, Ike left the cabin to retrieve more. While he was gone, Delia rose and retrieved the intricately embroidered skirt the orc hen had sent, with its similarly-trimmed, eyelet-sleeved white blouse. She exited the back door, still lickin’ the remnants of the pastry from her lips.
Ike re-entered with a dozen tow sacks clutched against his chest between two muscled arms. “Where’d she go?” he whispered.
“She’s out back puttin’ on the clothes, I think her name’s Pazeta, sent.”
I barely heard him whisper, “She’s a timid thin’. Must have gone through a horrible ordeal.”
My chest tightened more.
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