Expiring Covenant (Black Lake Book 1)

Chapter 27
Ren

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Papa had been an awful grump for weeks. Often held a club in his hand, if he wasn’t swingin’ a sickle, or heftin’ a pitch fork. The autumn days have turned short. The garden lays in a wilt, the silo full, the cannin’ complete. Everyone has more time on their hands to enjoy the chill in the air.

The clan gatherin’ isn’t for another week, but seems it’s already begun, with the young ogre bulls collectin’, campin’ on the Lake shore. Always an odd one here and there from the lowlands.

Takin’ a break from our dinin’ room chores, Torc and I strolled toward the Lake and the pier, to escape taut nerves from the clamor of the end-of-the-season rush, the human visitors gettin’ their last fishin’ in before snow paints the valley, and travel through the passes becomes more than just unpleasant.

My snout twitched, in irritation. Gums itched somethin’ awful. Tusks have been in a surly growth spurt of late. I grinned, knowin’ that related to Papa’s foul mood, and the young ogres that braved the freezin’ nights to camp nearby.

“We just sat down.” Torc moaned.

“What?” I asked.

“Here they come already,” my bull siblin’ explained. “Maybe I should be carryin’ a big stick around.” So he’s noticed Papa’s mood, too.

“Hush,” I hissed, lookin’ east and west, at the ogres convergin’ upon the boardwalk. “They’re sweet.”

“I never thought I’d be wishin’ ya’re ugly,” Torc said. “Couldn’t ya grow a wart or two? Develop a limp? Maybe snort more when ya laugh?”

The ogrelin’ buttoned the remainin’ hook of his jacket and stuffed his hands in his pockets against the breeze. From his sittin’ position on the bench, he flopped over on his shoulder, twisted onto his back, and propped his feet up on the rail. “Ahhh,” he groaned. “Sun feels good.”

“Be nice to them, please?” I asked.

“I’m always nice to everyone,” Torc said. “I’ll go fetch Ike if ya wish.”

“No!” I blurted.

Torc chuckled, and it tapered into an un-bullish giggle.

“I can’t wait until he gets through this latest phase of his,” I said.

“I thought his toy phase was aggravatin’.” Torc groaned. Again. So much complainin’.

“Hello, Mistress Ren,” Rein and Angus called together as they neared the boardwalk.

“How’d ya younglin’s fare with the cold last night?” I asked.

Both of the ogres grimaced. I love to tease them. They bear tusks long enough not to be referred to as younglin’s, but it pleases me the way they fluff up when I call them that.

“The frost won’t be reachin’ the lowlands for some time yet,” Rein said.

Torc mumbled softly, “Such a profound statement. Do my tusks have to grow that long to figure thin’s such as that out?”

“Shush!” I blurted at him, givin’ him the meanest glare I could muster, considerin’ the situation. Otherwise I would have been gigglin’.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. A pout of disgust pursed his lips.

The two ogres leaned against the railin’ of the boardwalk and frowned at the other two ogre bulls who approached from the opposite direction—Morz and Ong. I’d already decided Ong is here to give his friend Morz a supportin’ shoulder, but I think I like Ong more. Between Rein and Angus, I decided Rein did most of the talkin’, so Angus is here to support his friend, too. Odd, that they need a tagalong to give them the courage to flirt.

Morz and Ong reached us and leaned on the opposite railin’. They shared their nervous good mornin’s, and the two sets of suitor-visitors promptly turned quiet. After a moment, I said, “I think I’ll take a stroll out on the pier.”

“I’ll join ya,” Rein and Morz blurted together.

“Big surprise,” Torc mumbled.

I punched him in the shoulder as I walked by, as the four ogre bulls climbed over the railin’. Angus and Ong sat across from my bull siblin’. The cold of the bare boards tickled my bare feet. We ogres need just a tad more fur on the bottoms of our feet.

Behind us I heard Angus and Ong askin’ Torc about workin’ in the Inn, about bein’ around humans, as Rein and Morz fell beside me.

“I heard the Lake freezes over solid in the winter,” Rein said.

“It does,” I answered.

“Must get awfully cold up here,” Morz offered.

“It does, but it’s also beautiful, and romantic,” I cooed, “the snow powderin’ the pines, the icicles glistenin’ from the eves.”

“I bet ya don’t get out of yar cabin much,” Rein said.

“Actually, once the guests are all gone, the neighbors start spendin’ every evenin’ together in front of the main hearth at the Inn. The bull folk play checkers, and tell lies. We do a lot of quiltin’, and make up questionable facts.” I laughed. I’m so bad.

The two bulls looked at me with blank expressions. Bulls can be quite dull.

“Never mind,” I said.

They nodded, and fell silent as though the Lake and the cold required it. In the distance, I could hear my youngest siblin’ playin’. Mama would be relieved he’s outside. Givin’ her a moment of sanity. His racket carried over the water, as sound does, especially Ike’s.

“Bam!” he shouted over and over.

I turned and watched him, and smiled. When I go off to start my own family, Ike is what I’d miss most—among many thin’s. The tyke wore the overly-large, knitted hat Mama made him wear, the sides floppin’ over the side of his face like enlarged ears. He pounded the sod with a stick. At least I hope it was nothin’ alive.

“Bam! Bam!” He took a few more teeterin’ steps, and, “Bam! Bam!” strikin’ at an imaginary foe in the ethereal. He ran a couple steps toward a tribe of goats and tripped, prolly on a stubble of grass, and fell hard. Instead of cryin’, he screamed, “Bam!”

I grinned hard. How can so much joy and misery be so tightly entwined? Maybe got a twitch in my chest. A handful, that stinker. Thankfully, the other bullies were never a fourth as challengin’.

I turned to read confused expressions on the faces of my two escorts. “What?” I asked.

“He’s—” Rein hesitated.

“Indeed. The ogrelin’ takes yar words away,” Morz said.

Rein’s eyes got huge, and I followed his line of sight. The dragonet swooped toward us, and I turned and ran down the pier. The two tried to keep up with me, but it sounded as though they kept gettin’ their arms caught together, probably with their eyes glued to the sky, on the nearin’ dragon.

I reached the end of the pier. The two bulls stopped a dozen steps behind me.

“What’re ya runnin’ toward that for?” Rein asked, pointin’ up at Iza.

I laughed on the inside, at what the two behind me must be thinkin’. As the dragonet swept her wings back hard to land, I couldn’t help but think how majestic and exquisite she is.

The dragon settled on the far rail, foldin’ her broad wings inward, before speakin’ in her vibrato voice. “Hello, Ren.”

A dozen gnomes blinked in, flitted about for a moment, before returnin’ to the ethereal. The young dragon amazes them too.

“Good day to ya, Iza’loch.”

The creature trumpeted softly. “Every time we meet, I tell ya to use Iza. Ya’re an obstinate one.”

I giggled. “The way Lucas writes to ya in such lovin’, flowin’ words, Iza alone doesn’t seem to be grand enough.”

“Have ya gotten any new letters?” Iza asked.

“The new tinker dropped one off this very mornin’,” I told her, reachin’ inside my smock.

The dragonet’s eyes whirled, and her head swayed. Emotion rumbled from her chest. It brought a tear to my eyes, and I blinked quickly, so I could read the boy’s letter, printed in neat, flowin’ letters any prissy girl would be proud to claim. As always, Lucas had spent a considerable amount of time on his words.

I read, “Dear Ren, I hope this missive finds ya well. When ya next see my closest friend in the whole world, rush to give her a hardy scratch on the inside of each of her wings, where she likes it so.”

The dragonet trumpeted again softly, and the grumblin’ noise shifted louder yet. She made the hop from the pier rail to the landin’, her eyes whirlin’, brighter. This is my favorite part of the ritual. I gently half-folded the letter to keep it safe inside my smock while I embraced the dragon, scratchin’ her first inside one wing, then the other.

“Ya’re shakin’,” Iza said.

“It’s cold out on this pier,” I said. Maybe a bit of a fib. It’s prolly mostly excitement. A little awe, even.

“The breeze off the water does prick at the flesh.” Iza paused. “Is it the cold, or have I scared off yar friends?”

I turned. The four ogres had backed up the slope nearly to the Inn. I smiled. “They’ll get over it.”

“Oh please go on. I’m most eager to hear news of my friend.”

I took the half-dozen pages back out of my smock and sat to read. Iza curled a wing around me to block the wind. From time to time, “Bam!” echoed off the water. Lucas’ words sounded little like those of a ten—I thought—he’d turned eleven this month. His words rang too mature, and not at all self-centered, except for the pain he expressed, bein’ away from his Iza. I read the litany of thin’s he had been up to the last week, how the first few weeks of school seemed to drag miserably. Summer was so far away.

I heard Mama’s voice in the distance, a single syllable frequently shouted as it is now. “Ike!” I peeked around Iza’s wing to see Ike stubbornly shakin’ a fist in the air. “Bam!” he shouted. He stood on the wrong side, the Lake-side, of the fence. Asr ran down the hill to coax him back to where he belonged.

Papa needs to engage a few trolls to replace the fence with a six-foot-tall granite wall.

I returned to the letter, readin’ about the dreams the lad is havin’, as Iza gently weaved her head to and fro. As always, Iza’s havin’ the same dreams as Lucas, the two of them meetin’ in their dreams, loafin’ in the tall grass under a warm sun, or standin’ by the Lake talkin’. My skin prickled, not from the cold, but from the majicalness of Lucas and Iza’s relationship. There is no other explanation for the bond between the two.

“Would ya like me to pen a letter back for ya?” I asked when I finished readin’. I didn’t need to ask, or see the dragonets’ eyes far above me. Knew they would be whirlin’.

“A moment, Ren.” Iza bumped me a little harshly as the dragon rose, and launched into the air.

The force of the air propelled from Iza’s wings, the sound as they snapped forward and back, startled me. I stared, followin’ the flight of the dragon, toward the shore near home.

Ike was at the edge of the Lake, nearly in the stinkin’ water.

“No! Ike!” I heard myself scream the words without thinkin’ them up.

“Bam!” the ogrelin’ shouted, fist extended in the air.

I turned and ran up the pier, continuin’ to scream at Ike as I ran, but the ogrelin’ pointed defiantly at the dragon swoopin’ down on him. From the outcroppin’ where Asr returned to his readin’, careless in his babysittin’, he leapt up and ran for Ike, just as Torc, Rein, Angus, Morz and Ong did.

Air finally filled my lungs when Iza landed at the edge of the water, in front of Ike. The dragon held her wings out protectively to keep him from passin’ her. This created a whole new game for the incorrigible toddler. He ran into Iza’s outstretched wing and bounced back.

“Bam!” Ike shouted, as he collected his strength for another run. “Bam!”

He fell back on his well-padded tush. Readied for another charge at Iza when Asr reached out and grabbed him by his nape.

“Nooooooo!” the little booger screamed in defiance. “Laagooooooooo!”

His screech was enough to curdle fresh milk.

If I wasn’t so mad at Ike, or Asr for failin’ to watch our littlest siblin’ as he was delegated, I would have laughed out loud. Iza folded her wings in, and lowered her head, studyin’ the strugglin’ toddler—half as tall as Asr, but likely as strong. The dragon peered down as though she inspected some bizarre beast. Ike turned on his siblin’ and swung a stubby arm. In his mind he must have connected with a mighty jab, for he screamed. “Bam!”

I caught up to them and grabbed an ear of both Asr and Ike. With what I hoped was a good, hurtful tug, drew both ogrelin’s with me toward the fence.

Ike took a swin’ at me and screamed, “Bam!”

Asr shouted, “What’re ya mad at me for? I didn’t do anythin’.”

“Exactly!” I shouted.

“Bam!” Ike shouted, as he clubbed me in the arm as I hefted him over the fence.

“Ow, ya booger! I should bam ya in the nose.”

“Bam!” he shouted.

I set him down roughly and gave him a smart slap on the tush. The toddler tried to twirl around to face me, but got tangled in his big feet and toppled.

“Bam!”

“I’ll bam ya, ya stinker, if ya crawl through this fence ever again.” I swung a finger up and down in front of the tiny bull’s face.

Ike puckered up his face, but it washed away as he laughed. “Bam!”

“I thought ‘Toy!’ was bad,” Asr muttered.

I turned to give him an angry-siblin’ glare, but a smile escaped, maybe. The ogrelin’ shook his head as though considerin’ some great loss. I hid my smile the best I could and used my well-practiced finger to threaten him.

“Don’t turn yar back on that stinkin’ booger.”

Asr’s eyes gave me the only apology I needed. I gave him a light cuff to the side of his head before returnin’ to Iza.

I followed the dragonet’s gaze. Lucas’ letter was wadded up in my hand, forgotten in the excitement. I hurried to un-wrinkle the pages, smoothin’ them against my smock. “Oh. Oh. I’m so sorry, Iza.”

“No worry, my friend. Ya’ve already shared the content. The sentiments are what’s important, not the crispness of the sheets.”

“What can I write back to Lucas for ya?”

“That I am well and growin’ quickly. Ash’et claims I gain upon my wingspan daily; that I am also eager for summer to arrive. My bull siblin’s are all flyin’ well now, but prefer to talk more than anythin’ else. They will always be bores, I’m afraid. Tell Lucas I miss him, share his dreams, and am confident we’ll soon be able to speak together in them, as they’re gettin’ more vivid every night.”

I thanked Iza for keepin’ Ike out of the Lake, and gave her another wing scratch—from Lucas. We said our farewells, and the dragonet launched into the sky.

As she ascended, Ike screamed, “Toy!”

“No toy,” I murmured. Out of habit. The booger.

~