The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2) (39 page)

“Just a box that is black within, with glass on top.  The sun's rays shine through the glass, and when they hit the sides, they are changed so that they can't escape, and so they heat the water instead.  That's all.”

“Still that is amazing.” 
Don't use the word 'troll!' 
“Henogalians seem so inventive.”

“Young lady, you are buttering me up.”

“Sorry?”

“It means you are giving me compliments that I don't deserve.  Henogalians may have invented many things, but truth is, we have the Wizard to thank.  The First Wizard, that is.”

Carrot nearly plunked the ladle into the broth. 
He was here.
  “The
First
Wizard?”

Susan breezed back with empty platters.  “More are coming!  Do you know what's causing the surge?  Talk of a ship that sails through the sky!  Taverns always fill when there's news.  Yet of all things!  Now, Arcadia, cut the bread.  Wash your hands first!  Do they wash hands in Human Britan?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Call me Susan.  And Paul, show her how to pour the beer.  There has to be foam!”

The beer that flowed from the wall tap wasn't just cool, it was positively cold. 
How do they do that?

The rumble of conversation died by mid-afternoon.  Susan busied herself cleaning the main room, then returned to inspect Carrot's work in the kitchen.  “Arcadia, this is gleaming!  Don't you think, Paul?”

“Yep,” Paul said without looking up from the large sheets of press-printed paper that he was reading.    

“Arcadia,” Susan said.  “Your clothes are for traveling, are they not?  We do have some clothing that may fit more comfortably.  Shall we try something on?”

Arcadia/Carrot compliantly followed Susan upstairs.  They entered a room that would have been cozy even by human standards.  The sole furnishings were a bed, a chair, and a chest, and all were covered with a few month's dust.  Susan flung open the chest and held up a dress with floral prints and frills. 

“What do you think?” Susan asked. 

“Oh, I could never wear that.  It's too pretty.”

“This dress has been in the chest for ages now.  If you don't wear it, no one will.  Let's try it on, shall we?”

The fit was almost snug.  Susan motioned to the mirror.  Carrot examined herself, but before she could form an opinion, she noticed that the mirror was barely taller than she was – certainly not tall enough for a normal sized troll.  The bed, she realized, was also human-sized.

“You have a daughter,” she said.

“Had,” Susan replied.  After a pause, she said, “Shall we see what Paul thinks?”

Paul glared over his newspaper.  “Susan, I – “  his words trailed off with her sharp return glare.  “Well, it should be put to use, I suppose.”

Susan placed arms akimbo.  “You're reading the paper, so I take it the outer chores are done?”

“Yes, dear.”

“I was going to rest a spell.  So what shall we do with Arcadia?”

Carrot lightly coughed for attention.  “Would it be possible to go for a walk?  I see that you are busy, Paul, so perhaps I could walk by myself?  I promise not to be seen.”

“You want to meet with your friends,” Paul said.

Carrot backstepped.

“It's not hard to figure,” Paul said.  “I've been in the inn-keeping business my whole life, and maybe once in years do I see a woman traveling alone.  Well, we have food  and you have silver, so perhaps a deal can be made to share leftovers with your friends.  Always happy to feed extra mouths, for a price.”

A minute later, Carrot stole out the back, slipping down the trail that she'd seen Norian and Mirian take.  It wasn't hard to follow their scent – Norian's, at least – and Mirian had carved a minute '
NM
' in tree trunks whenever the trail came to a fork. 

They had encamped near a stream.  Mirian was shooting arrows at stumps and Norian was napping against his backpack but awoke with Carrot's approach.  Mirian's eyes alighted even before Carrot unwrapped the meals.  Mirian moaned as she devoured the chicken.

“I love troll food!” Mirian exclaimed. 

“It seems to be exactly what humans eat,” Norian said.  He bit into a drumstick.  “Tastes the same too.”

“Oh, but the portions!”

Where does she put it
, Carrot asked, eying Mirian's slender frame. 

While they gobbled, Carrot told them what she had already learned.

Norian's first question was, “So they have not connected the appearance of the airship to you?”

“Why would they?”

Mirian's first question was, “So are you going to a party?”

“What?  Oh.”  Carrot looked down at the dress.  “This is a child's hand-me-down.”

“I am curious about this mention of how common is the name 'Arcadia,'” Norian said.  “As your mother gave you that as a name, do you suppose that your mother came from a place near Troll Land?”

“My mother never spoke to me of where she had come.  Uncle Ral says that his fellowship of mentors told him only that she had run away from home.”

“So it's possible that
she
was
a troll,” Mirian said.

“She wasn't a troll,” Carrot said.

“How do you know?  Look at you, it would seem that you have trollish blood.  Trolls have superior strength and a good sense of smell, and you do too.  And you say they're smart, and people say you're smart, or so I've heard.  Maybe you're just a dwarf version of a troll.”

“I.  Am.  Not.  A.  Troll.”

“Mirian, let it be,” Norian said soothingly.  To Carrot:  “Shall we resume our daily practice?”

“I don't want this dress to become dirty,” Carrot replied.  “I'll bring my other clothes next time.  For now, I'd best return.  I'll come tomorrow and bring more food.”

“And beer,” Mirian said.  “Do they serve beer?” 

“Yes.”

“So they are civilized!”

In some ways more than we
, Carrot thought as she returned to the inn. 

That night, exhausted by the magnitude of troll-sized chores, Carrot flopped into the bed and slept soundly until morning, when she was aroused to the sound of chimes coming from the hall.  Affixing her collar, she padded out to find that Paul, still in nightgown, was flipping a lever on a wall-mounted disk.  The disk, which she had assumed earlier was simply an ornament, had numbers printed along the rim. 
A clock.
  They had their own personal Master of Rome. 

Paul smiled at her and said, “Rise and shine, Sarah.”  His expression turned to mortification.  “Lords!  Sorry, I meant, Arcadia.”

Susan had awakened before the alarm and had the pot already boiling.  Carrot poured in the oats and stirred, and they fell into the routine of preparing another meal.  However, after delivering the first trays, Susan returned with a perplexed expression on her face. 

“They know we have a 'human female,'” she said.  “I didn't think the scent would carry, but you know how sensitive some people's noses are.”

“Ah,” Paul said.  “I can guess which one.” 

Carrot said, “You said it would be bad for your business if my presence was known.  I can hide in the woods until they leave.”

“And how will you do your chores?”  Paul set down his paper.  “I've had a change of heart.  For an innkeeper, what's truly bad for business is bigotry.  Come along, Arcadia.  Let's meet the customers.”

Paul marched into the dining room, a mortified Carrot at his side.  Dozens of eyes stared.  Carrot truly felt like a child again.  Peter gently rested his immense hands on her shoulders, thereby fully covering her shoulders, and nudged her toward a gray-whiskered troll sitting at a table near the kitchen. 

“There now, Daniel,” Peter said.  “You can plainly see she's just a harmless girl.”

The bushy eyebrows of the elder troll furrowed into one long underscore beneath his forehead.  “She's plainly of adult size,” he replied.  “For a human.”

“And you've had her serving us all along,” said another at the table.

“Why not?” Peter demanded.  “She works hard.  Also, she's clean.  Cleaner than you, maybe.”

Daniel put on his eyeglasses and inspected.  “You say she's clean, but she's human.  The plague came from among humans.  I'm surprised you've forgotten, considering what happened to your daughter.”

“Don't you even hint that I've forgotten Sarah.”  Paul looked as if he could kill.  He relaxed his expression and said, “The First Wizard was human and the new Wizard is human too, and
he
cured the plague.  And the plague came from the Romans, everyone's heard that.  This girl is Britanian, and Human Britan is fighting against the Romans.  I'm a royally licensed sponsor, so her presence here is approved by no less than the King himself.  And if you don't like her serving you, I'll refund your money and you can take your patronage elsewhere.”

“You know you're the only inn within ten kilometers,” Daniel mumbled. 

“That's a matter for your feet and stomach to ponder.”  Paul glanced at the other patrons.  “My wife's stirring the porridge pot and she'll be frying sausages and you know you'll have to walk a lot farther than ten kays to find a better cook.  And we have the best cider, you know that too.” 

They all sat with perfect stillness, and Carrot wished she had a twin who could take over her mission and someday also marry Matt, so that she herself could go somewhere private right now to die of embarrassment. 

But then someone clinked spoon to bowl and began slurping.  Soon did the rest, including, with a growl, Daniel.

For lunch, she and Susan switched roles.  Continuing to cook, Susan also set the meals on the trays, while Carrot, ignoring staring eyes, carried the trays into the dining room.  Given her smaller size, Carrot could only balance two at a time, and to match Susan's work she had to scurry.  After a while, she noticed she was scurrying
a lot,
and the line of customers extended out the door.

Paul mused at the kitchen threshold:  “Arcadia, look at the customers!  You're packing them in.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry!”

“No, it's a good thing.  It's an innkeeper's expression.  It means you're attracting customers.  People always come running to see a novelty.”  He yawned.  “Just shows how boring most of life is.”

Carrot nodded without conviction. 

After lunch, Susan helped her with the dishes.  As they chatted, Carrot was transported in memory back to another kitchen.  Conversationwise, Susan was like Mola, Gwinol, and Nilla rolled into one. 
And in other ways too
, Carrot wryly thought.   

“Arcadia, you're smiling!” Susan beamed.  “I'm so glad you've put your troubles aside.”

“You think that I'm troubled?”

“It's obvious, dear.  The way you scrub furiously, then stare off to space.  Tell me, is it a boy?”

“How did you – “

Susan laughed.  “I was the same with Paul.  When I was a lass your age, before we were married, my every other thought was about him.”

“I'm not as bad as that,” Carrot murmured, and began scrubbing furiously. 

The lunchtime crowd rolled in and Carrot served the sandwiches but was detained from washing the dishes afterward because she had spied a pair of trolls playing a board game.  The players noticed her interest and called her over, and when she tried to beg off to help Susan, Paul took the finished trays and urged her to socialize instead. 

“This is called 'chess,'” the playing sitting behind the white pieces said.  “Do humans have chess?”

Carrot shook her head.  “I've never seen anything like it.”

“Not surprising,” Black said.  “It's an invention of the People.”

“Don't attempt to boast,” White replied.  “It was given to us by the Wizard.”

“The Wizard taught arithmetic and logic and science.  He specifically didn't give us any inventions, because he wanted us to think for ourselves.”

“He gave us chess for that very reason, because it teaches one to think.  Now, young lady, here is how the game is played.”  White picked up the pieces and described their moves.  Concluding, he said, “You probably didn't get all that, but you're welcome to watch and see if you can catch on.”

With a nod from Paul, Carrot watched.  White and Black took turns, advancing the pieces into a clash over the center of the board of alternating light and dark squares.  White hadn't explained the object of the game, but it was evident that the king, despite his tactical weakness, had to be preserved at all costs.  An important sub-goal, however, was to engage in battles of annihilation in such a way as to exchange a less mobile piece for one of the opponent's greater.  Yet strategic position could override deficits in material advantage . . .
just as in real battle
. 

Carrot resumed cleaning the dining room, watching the game from afar. 

After a time, White pounded a knight deep into the black's territory.  “Check!”

Black moved his king and White counter-moved a pawn.  Black stroked his beard and shook his head.  “I fear you have me trapped.”