Chapter 26
Jear
~
“Ya’ve been spendin’ a lot of yar time with the humans, and other folk, in that hamlet,” the elder said, stampin’ his staff.
I answered with a grunt. Not that it’s any of his business. Besides, it’s just for the checkers. Not that I like them ogres or humans one bit. The elf’s grumpiness is endearin’.
“What news is there from that inn?” the elder asked.
“Is that what this council was called for?” I asked. “How I spend my personal time?”
“Hardly,” the ancient troll growled. “Well, perhaps partly. We discuss the goin’s on there, and the change those humans bring to the valley.”
“They do bring change,” I grumbled.
“Ya seem to be taken with them. What change do they bring lately?”
I grimaced at the unspoken hypocrisy that I once wished all the outsiders ill will. I shook my head. The scraggle of my hair against my cheek prompted me to scratch.
“It was only a few seasons ago ya were wantin’ to torch the inn,” the elder unnecessarily reminded me. “What explains yar turn in opinion of them?”
The old blowhard just couldn’t leave it unsaid? And—not any of his business. I glared, maybe.
“It’s none of the council’s business,” I finally said. “Maybe their odor doesn’t offend me as it did once.” That was more information than the council deserved.
“I hear ya’re gettin’ good at the humans’ game of checkers,” another elder quipped.
Deep-throated chuckles echoed within the cavern.
I growled. “Do ya have a point to yar interrogation?”
“Tis no interrogation,” the council leader said, barin’ his canines.
“Surely to get yar goat,” Lrt, one of my one-time followers offered. Was that disrespectin’ me, or the council leader? I hadn’t spoken to the young troll since he abandoned me—on my journey to kill that silly elf.
After a bit the elder stamped his staff to quiet the laughs and whispers.
“What of those dragons?” the elder finally asked.
“Yes. Are ya beatin’ them at checkers?” someone asked.
“Do they appear to present a threat?” the elder shouted over the laughs.
“I hear the gnomes are even smitten with the queen-babe,” someone said.
“The littlepeople seem not to be worried about them,” I answered. “Though they give the old queen, Ash’et is her name, a wide swath.” They are brighter than I ever expected.
“Thin’s have indeed changed from the days of old, if gnomes are befriendin’ dragons,” the elder grumbled.
Guttural shouts and the stampin’ of staffs interfered with continued conversation for some time. The council leader finally got them in order. “So the prophesy seems to stand. Only two elven generations it took.”
“I’m not plannin’ to strike out north and try to recapture my family’s ancestral home,” the voice of one of the high elders boomed.
Aye ayes thundered against the granite.
I said, “The ogre, Birs, says he hears from travelers from the west that the humans have been tradin’ with his people there, with troll and ogre alike.”
“Humans venturin’ into the west?” the elder asked.
“What the ogre says.”
“Over the checker board?” Lrt teased.
I growled, bared my teeth, gripped my staff, and whipped toward the young troll. Definitely an attack on me. The council leader hissed at the low-stationed troll to be quiet, and the clamor in the cavern diminished.
“So is it time to send a guard North to evaluate if we can return to our stakes?” one of the youngest on the council asked.
“None of us have stakes in the North. Serves no purpose to speak as though we do,” the council leader growled.
“Ancestral stakes,” the younger troll snarled.
“Means nothin’,” the leader shouted. “Read the Covenant.” His old, rounded shoulders bounced with irritation.
“That doesn’t mean we can’t return to the homes our ancestors struck eons ago, if it doesn’t interfere with peace, if the humans are treadin’ in the West.”
“If,” one of the council shouted.
Aye ayes filled the chamber.
The leader pounded his staff into the stone at his feet. A spark sprung from the impact, blared startlin’ bright in the black of the mine, makin’ me blink. Finally, the noise subsided.
“May I have the floor?” one of the youngest councilors asked.
“I yield the floor,” the leader said with a lazy motion of his staff, but he remained standin’, in control.
The troll introduced himself. “For those of us spendin’ more time playin’ checkers with humans, than in the mines,” he joked.
My lips unintentionally rose to show my teeth in a smile. I appreciated the younger troll’s nerve in directin’ his sarcasm to my face, than hidin’ it within the crowd. Respectful chuckles echoed for only a moment, and I received a clop on the shoulder to reward me for my patience.
Sar presented a specimen to strike pride in trollkind, tall, granite-block-solid, handsome, shiny-black dreadlocks.
I looked a bit like that, a hundred years ago.
The bull wields a middlin’ rank on the council, and is no doubt eager to rise higher, judgin’ by the way he complimented his elders. Sideways glances from several in the cavern implied others noticed his obvious maneuverin’.
He’ll learn subtlety as he matures.
“A guard would be seen as provocative,” Sar told the council.
Heads nodded.
“I volunteer to go meet with the humans alone,” Sar said.
“Ha! Would ya even recognize a human?” I challenged him. “Have ya ever been out of this cavern?”
Sar’s lip rose showin’ his front canines, as I struggled to stand, leveragin’ my staff. Yoso hurried forward and gave me a helpin’ hand, and sat back down.
The council leader grumbled. “Ya volunteerin’, Jear?”
That hadn’t been my intention. But now, I’d look the fool if I didn’t. “I suspect I am,” I growled.
Why am I doin’ this? Ya old fool.
“Ya’re the only troll here older than me,” The council leader growled. “Granted, ya’ve spent time playin’ checkers with the humans, but it takes ya half a day to make it from the mines to the other side of the Lake’s point.”
I jammed my staff into the stone, and growled. “My plan isn’t to walk.”
It was quiet for only a moment.
“Ya gonna ride that dragon queen?” Sar asked, his voice vibratin’ with tension.
The laughs halted the conversation again. I glared at the younger troll until he respectfully looked down.
“Even an old nag-troll like me, alone, will rattle the humans up North. We need a human escort.” I dipped my head to the leader, darin’ him to deny my words.
“Ya have someone in mind?” the leader asked.
“I do.”
“Ya’re willin’ to travel with those horses they use, are ya?”
Sar growled, as sharp toothed grins spread across the cavern. I struggled not to display my own humor in Sar’s demonstrated distaste. I turned away from the young troll.
“Jear has shown intolerance in the past,” a councilor bellowed. “Would he be the best to represent this council?”
A round of growls erupted, and our leader had to pound his staff again.
“I say Yoso, who’s spent even more time around the humans than Jear, should go,” a troll growled.
“Two hulkin’ trolls,” another bellowed. “We agreed we shouldn’t intimidate the fearful humans.”
“A younglin’ and an old goat won’t do that.”
The din of laughter vibrated through my feet. It was indeed funny, callin’ the seventy year-old Yoso a younglin’—though clearly the comment was directed at Sar. I tilted my head and bared my teeth, soakin’ up the mood in the chamber. “Sar is hardly an old goat,” I finally said when it quieted enough to be heard. The new chuckles remained respectful.
Yoso stood, and the leader leaned his staff toward him to recognize him.
“I’d be honored to be represented by Jear,” he said. “I trust his decisions and his way with the humans.”
I looked over at my companion. We’d spent a lot of time together in the past year, but more often than not it had been in adversarial discussion. There was somethin’ I always found disconcertin’ about the calm, quiet bull. It isn’t natural for a troll to live above ground—even in a dugout. And he’s too easy goin’ for a troll. I caught Yoso’s glance. The younger bull tilted his head in a respectful bow.
Perhaps he isn’t half as annoyin’ as I thought.
“To a vote—for Jear and Sar goin’ together,” someone shouted.
The leader lifted his staff, and a round of ayes clamored against the granite.
Our leader allowed a five-count of silence to follow the vote before he spoke.
“Make what plans ya must and take yar leave.”
I studied Sar’s expression. His brows scrunched together in a single, scraggly huff. The troll expected to be the leader of the expedition. He already felt the tagalong.
Sar turned toward the council leader, bowed, and sat. Yoso and I followed suit, as the council continued on other matters.
When the gatherin’ adjourned, I collected what I needed, primarily a clan map that outlined where the various family stakes had been, long ago, and a nighttime kit. Sar had no family to see to either, so he left the caverns with Yoso and me, pausin’ only to collect his kit, a purse full of gems, and the odd human coin he possessed. He followed behind us two elder trolls, tryin’ to engage us in conversation about the trek.
I tried to disregard Yoso’s occasional glare, for ignorin’ the younger’s eagerness to talk about our endeavor, but I saw no need for a plan.
Ya set one foot in front of another, and continue thusly until yar journey is complete.
The sky turned black as we neared the little Hamlet.
“Ya’re gonna go speak to Bick now?” Yoso asked me.
“Who’s this Bick fellow?” Sar asked.
We both ignored him. I nodded my head to answer Yoso.
“Ya seem confident he’ll go with ya.”
“Not confident. No matter. If he chooses not to aid us, the journey is over before it starts.”
“Nonsense. We’ll go no matter what,” Sar said.
I smiled, at the expression Yoso shot the young troll over his shoulder.
“When ya’re finished, help yarself to my barn,” Yoso mumbled.
“Aye.”
It isn’t rare for me to sleep in Yoso’s barn. The past year I’d joined many a checker challenge by the light of the hearth in the Inn’s lobby, too late by far to make the long trek to the mines. Truth be told, I’d grown accustomed to meals in the Inn’s dinin’ room. Any excuse to hold me over for mornin’ worked. The daft elf never expected me to pay for my grub. Somehow, I’d become somethin’ of an accoutrement. The visitin’ humans chatted with me, expectin’ a troll tale. I usually accommodate them. Not that I have much of anythin’ more important to keep myself busy. It’s my way of contributin’ to the Hamlet, as strange as that contribution seems. Some days I feel as though I’m the Inn’s pet, of sorts. Demeanin’ perhaps. I try to think otherwise. My presence gives me the opportunity to keep up with the mind of the Northern humans.
I stopped to catch my breath, grabbin’ my staff with both hands and leanin’ heavily, as Yoso left us for his own home. I looked up the long hill, at the lit windows of the stone structure Bick and his new bride live in. I coughed a bit, and spit out the phlegm that came up.
Good thin’ I’ve befriended these queer folk. If I spent all my time in the cold, damp mines, I’d already be dead by now.
“Is there somethin’ the matter with ya?” Sar asked.
“When ya’re as old as me, the proper question is whether there’s anythin’ right.” I took a long, last, deep breath, and swung my staff forward for the next step, and the next.
Tis gonna be a long journey.
A four-legged, long-haired beast barked at us from the veranda as we approached.
I hate those critters. Why’d Bick think he needed to bring one of those filthy thin’s here from the North? All they do is make noise and leave inconvenient, disgustin’ gifts in yar path.
I strived to ignore the expression from Sar, who looked down at me with arched brows.
No doubt, he’s never seen a dog before.
I waved him to come nearer, and grabbed his shoulder for support.
It’s been a long walk—a longer day. My bones ache, worse than normal.
The front door opened. The former tinker walked out and raised a lantern, peerin’ into the dark. “Good evenin’, Master Jear. Missed ya at checkers this afternoon.”
Sar blocked the glare of the light with his hand, but turned a toothy grin at me. I shot him a grimace that shut it down.
“Council,” I growled.
“I reckoned as much,” the human said. “Come up and take the load off.”
I looked up the steep stairs—leaned more heavily upon Sar. “All the same, I wish to make prompt my beggin’.”
“Beggin’?” Bick crossed the steps to join us on the gravel path.
“I be needin’ yar help,” I said.
“I’ll do what I can.” Bick pinched his eyes together. “Never heard a troll askin’ for nothin’. This ought to be good.”
I growled the briefest moment. “I need ya to be escortin’ me and the younglin’ here, north.”
“How long will we be gone,” Bick asked.
“Weeks,” I said.
“Suspect ya wouldn’t be askin’ if it wasn’t important.”
“Tis.”
“Right away?”
I nodded. “If ya can make do.”
Under his breath, as though he was talkin’ to himself, Bick said, “Spose Ren and Kilhin can help Braes with most any problem for a while.” He studied the shadows on the gravel path for a moment. “Can ya wait on me ’til breakfast is done at the Inn in the mornin’?”
“That’ll work.”
“Ya have a place to sleep?”
“Yoso’s barn,” I said.
The human gave me a nod and turned and strode up the stairs and into the house without another word.
“He didn’t even ask why we’re goin’,” Sar said, hurryin’ to get to my other side to help me as I headed for Yoso’s.
“These folks. They step up to help their neighbors,” I said. “He didn’t need to know why. Only that I needed his help.”
Sar glanced at me a moment but quickly looked down at the ground.
The young bull has a lot to learn, but if he keeps his mouth shut, he may do a lot of learnin’ on this trip. If we live through it.
~
Yoso opened the barn doors wide before the sun rose, and the nannies started linin’ up to be milked. My gnarled hands didn’t allow me to help, but I gestured at Sar to step in to aid Yoso and Eina. The younglin’ obviously had never grabbed an udder in his life, and it gave the three of us a great deal of mirth. Eina patiently showed him the required technique, and before long they had three buckets singin’ with the double notes of sqish.
Eina filled us with a hearty meal. Sittin’ out in front of the dugout drinkin’ a mornin’ tea, I caught sight of Bick up the hill, leadin’ his already-hitched wagon from his barn.
“Thank ya for yar hospitality, Mistress Eina,” I told Yoso’s mate.
She nodded and took our cups and retreated inside, only to reappear with a heavy pack which she handed to Sar. “A bite of this and that,” she said.
“Ya’re most kind,” the young troll said.
Eina slapped him on the shoulder, and he rushed to catch up with me. Odd, I felt surprisin’ly spry this mornin’.
“A good night’s rest must have done ya good,” Sar suggested. Good to hear he’s observant.
I glanced at him. “The first two hours of sun are an old troll’s only good ones.”
We neared Bick and his team, and Sar held back. I couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t been long ago I looked at horses with disgust too. Can’t say I embrace them now, but recognize their utility. I would never fit in the bench seat of the wagon, built to human dimensions, so I crawled onto the bed of the wagon with Bick’s help. Sar hadn’t yet found the nerve to approach. I settled into the thick layer of hay and leaned up against the man’s rolled sleepin’ furs. Bick climbed up front.
“Let’s go, Rueti, Tueti.” He jiggled the reins and the horses, outfitted in straw hats adorned with pink ribbons, slowly moved forward.
The team made its way around the circular path in front of the human’s home, down to the twin ruts that would take us out of the valley. Bick’s wife stepped out from the Inn’s kitchen door and waved. The man lifted his hat in the air.
Bick said, “At least ya gave me a week of wedded bliss before ya engaged me for yar little journey.”
“Not good to be too settled,” I said.
The man chuckled.
Sar followed a respectable stretch behind. The wagon’s pace would be no problem with his long stride.
Tis a significant thin’ we do. I know Sar understands that. If we’re successful, it’ll be quite the coup for the younglin’. I’d be the leader of the clan if I had done this a couple decades ago. If the humans don’t kill him, Sar will lead our council meetin’s one day.
“Did ya bring a checker board?” I growled at Bick.
“Of course.”
“Ya’ll need to be teachin’ Sar the finer points of the game.”
Bick chuckled.
They’re quick to demonstrate their humor. Wish it didn’t sound so dainty.
~
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