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Chapter Fifty-seven

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It was so cold the Snowcat’s engine didn’t want to turn over. I found myself wishin’ I’d put on some galoshes. It was barely mid-November. Shouldn’t be this cold this early. Or maybe my ogre metabolism isn’t doin’ as good a job keepin’ me toasty, as usual. Zia didn’t have anything more substantial on than a leather vest.

We made it the five minutes to the inn and Zia told me to get inside. “I see ya shiverin’,” she said accussin’ly. “I’ll put the tractor up.”

She could hint that I had some tusks. But I also liked she’s keepin’ care of me. Nice she trusted me to get myself safely inside. Hopefully one day I could be bullish around her.

The lobby and dinin’ room was half-full of locals, all of whom gave me a nod as I straggled across the entry, clack clackin’ my cane. A few bull cousins gave me a wink. I always struggle with that sentiment. Makes no logical sense to me, so I just gave ’em an extra nod.

My favorite tiny orc server met me at the table where Ike, Bliar, and Nuel sat, with a tall mug of steamin’ coffee. I thanked her twice. She worked givin’ me a big grin without showin’ her dicey teeth. Not that they bother me. I was raised around so many orcs those needle-sharp teeth seem natural. But I guess she’s used to avoidin’ deep smiles around the human tourists.

The three of ’em asked how I was feelin’ once I got settled in, hung the cane over the table’s edge. I told ’em the truth. Maybe I shouldn’t have. It seemed to distress ’em, maybe. Bliar moved on to small talk quickly. Was he avoidin’ somethin’?

Did Ike and Nuel have bruises across their jaws and temples? Maybe I stared.

“Stop starin’,” Ike hissed. So I guess I did.

“Ya two have a fight?” I asked.

Bliar closed his eyes, shook his head, and planted a palm to his forehead. Nuel laughed. Ike growled.

“What?” I asked.

“Not proper to notice,” Bliar whispered. Nuel laughed again. Ike growled.

I didn’t get it. Until I did. “Oh—oh.”

“Ya get some sleep?” Ike hissed.

“Like a log,” I said.

“Never get used to ya speakin’ Trollish,” Ike said.

“Ya’re tellin’ me,” Bliar said.

That sweet orc set down an Ogre Platter in front of me. I started with a biscuit. Heavy on the butter, added a bit of honey, popped it into my mouth whole.

“Ya hungry a little?” Bliar asked.

“Nahh rillly,” I admitted. “Zia already made me a dandy breakfast.”

The three watched as I split another biscuit and layered a few thick slices of fried sorghum-ham inside it. Nuel asked where Zia was. I explained. “She probably entered the kitchen through the side entrance.”

The three nodded, as though I spoke prophesy. I eyed ’em. “What?”

“So ya and Zia?” Ike asked.

I nodded. “Gotta inform her folks first, but, would ya schedule a formal greet with the clan council, to request a blessin’ of our matin’?”

Bliar spit coffee all over the table.

Hit all of us.

Nuel gasped as though someone poked her in the butt. Ike sputtered. Maybe they didn’t expect that. Only a guess. It took a couple of minutes for the three of ’em to settle back in, after my sweet orc wiped up the table. We’d all wear coffee stains. My favorite sweater, too.

“Already?” Bliar hissed after our server strode away. I didn’t quite get what he was startled over. But considerin’, I figgered every ear in the dinin’ room now focused on us like radars.

“After we chat,” I said, givin’ Ike a glance, “will ya take me over to visit Zia’s folks? Don’t really feel up to managin’ a snowmobile by myself.”

“Have ya even asked their permission to woo her?” Bliar whispered.

“Of course,” I said. “I know the progression. Have ya?” I asked Ike.

“We’re—uh—” Ike stuttered.

“Talkin’ about ya and Zia,” Nuel offered.

“Not anymore,” I said. “So I see a lot has happened since ya flew here.”

Ike’s cheeks turned radish red. “Some.”

Did he accidentally kick his shins? “That thirty million share,” I said, “the South transferred to OW for the sale of the battleship should help the stock some.”

“North ain’t real happy about that,” he said.

“Let ’em be unhappy. They shouldn’t have sent all those ships into Southern waters makin’ threats.”

Nuel snorted. Odd she otherwise had mostly kept her trap shut so far.

“Wait til the South sells the rest they took over, or scuttle ’em,” Bliar said.

I told him I liked how he thought. Ike said our Black Lake Council leader withdrew his offer for him to run the council. “Now that the crisis is over,” he said.

I offered that must relax the load on his shoulders. “But ya can’t say the crisis is over. Not by far.”

The three of ’em shot me a look, I noticed over the turkey leg I chewed on. “This has been goin’ on for a couple thousand years. Ya think the business that originally brought about the Covenant was a one off? ’Em idjits don’t like the way we look. Will always look down on us. Always feel superior. We’d be better off severin’ ties and be done with ’em.”

“Good thin’ ya aren’t makin’ the decisions,” Ike said.

I snorted. A bit of turkey hit my chin. I pushed it back where it belonged. “If the South wanted to play nice, they wouldn’t already be sellin’ off assets of the Northern Navy.”

At least Nuel nodded.

“Severin’ ties will kill OW,” Ike said.

“Only because we’ve mostly only marketed to the North. Startin’ tomorrow, we transition a new business unit focused entirely on overseas sales.”

“Uh. Just like that?” Ike mumbled.

“Like ya hadn’t already thought about it,” I said. We hadn’t already done it because the North kept us plenty busy before.

Nuel looked at him hard. Ike offered her a shrug.

“Business and politics can’t mingle,” I said. “Goin’ forward. If ya want to run South and play politician, ya will resign from the board of both OW and OI.”

“Uh—”

“Don’t uh me,” I snarled. “Ya’re the reason we opened around forty-three points on the overseas markets. We were over twelve hundred, if ya don’t remember.”

“Ya the chair of OW all of a sudden?” Ike asked. His upper lip pushed down on his tusks hard.

I studied my turkey leg for a moment. Wasn’t any more meat worth goin’ after, so I pointed it at Ike, and gave it a shake. “Ya think ya’ll get a single vote of confidence if I take that to the board?”

He put on what I suspected was an angry face.

“He has a point,” Bliar said.

“Ya’d vote against me?” Ike asked his papa.

“He’s makin’ sense to me,” Bliar said.

Nuel laughed. Ike asked her what she thought was so funny.

“I always wondered why the board put up with all yar finaglin’,” she said. “Know all of that is important to ya. I personally think ya should resign anyway, and challenge that old goat for Black Lake Council leader. It’s a given the job should be yars, so I’m told.”

“Resign?” he hissed. “I started the company.”

“We started the company,” I snarled. “Based on my technology. I brought the fresh edge to OW.”

Ike dropped his jaw. Was that anger? “Fresh edge?”

“He’s got a good point,” Bliar said. “Ya’ve always spent half yar time dealing with Range and clan issues anyway. Like anyone will notice ya’re gone.”

Ike began screechin’ some noise I didn’t recognize. Could have been irritation. He stuttered, “My own papa stabbin’ me in the back.”

By now the whole idea of Nuel bein’ clan leader was way out of my mental conspirin’. But I needed another way to get her out of my way at OW. I guess I could just fire her. That would give me a rare smile. How would Wizper and Darshee take that? Last I heard from ’em, they were pretty ticked at her.

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Nuel

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I found myself frequently caressin’ the bruises on my face, not that it eased ’em at all. A smile or frown made ’em twinge, but while irritatin’, what caused ’em lingered sweetly on my mind.

I thought I was gonna split a gut when Kriz mentioned ’em, though. Another bull might’ve slugged Kriz in the face for the transgression. I guess knowin’ he’s quite the social idjit saved ’em both. Kriz already hurt enough. Ike would have hated to hurt his cousin, standin’ up for my honor—such a pile of horse wash.

From there the conversation veered enough to make me dizzy. Ike was suddenly under attack, sort of, by both his papa and Kriz, who I know both cherish Ike as though they were with the gods when they got together and proclaimed him special.

Weren’t we here to give him support?

Odd way to do it.

Maybe Kriz had other thoughts after a good night’s rest. I know firsthand ya can’t get any sleep in a hospital.

When the cousins left the table for their visit across the Lake, it occurred to me they were strollin’ over to use the inn’s equipment without askin’ anyone. So I whispered at Bliar, “Who owns the inn?”

“The original owner, a beloved elf by the name of Braes, bequeathed it to our clan council.”

I thought about that a moment. “Why not the greater council?”

“There was only the one clan at the time.”

That surprised me. “And it’s still the much larger clan?” I asked.

Bliar nodded. “By far. I couldn’t count the number of sons Birs had. And all the bulls since. We’ve been prolific.” He took a sip of coffee, maybe to hide the tinge of his cheeks. “It would take all the slope clans together to match the votin’ power of our clan.”

“But, they’re not part of the Black Lake Council?”

He shook his head. I asked him about the Wildes. He stressed no one called it that any longer. I suggested they needed a better name that just the South. He chuckled. Suggested I come up with a better name.

“Wildes sounds good to me,” I said.

He scrunched up his eyes a moment in thought, then nodded. I asked, what kept the various slopes, the Wildes, and Black Lake from combinin’ permanently, to keep the North in line. He hit his coffee again.

“Ya know ya’re talkin’ about a lot of history, as though it’s incidental?”

“Yeah, but thin’s have to progress.”

He shook his head. “We ogres are pretty conservative folk. Don’t care much for change.” He smiled. “Imagine the Troll Council joinin’ us—and the others.” He laughed hard. Luckily he didn’t spit coffee over the table again.

“They seem to have some anger issues.”

He guffawed. And continued to break into chuckles for a few minutes. I was surprised the folks sittin’ around us didn’t pay any attention. I guess they didn’t care about us now that Ike and Kriz were gone.

Maybe five minutes later Bliar pulled himself together. “Ya need to spend more time around our troll cousins.”

I hoped to.

Speakin’ of trolls, I asked where Jam and the others were. Bliar said Jam was in the kitchen, Frip and Ponwr were off ice fishin’.

“Jam’s in the kitchen?” I asked.

Bliar blushed a bit, studied the contents of his cup. “He and Ezra are gettin’ along well.”

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The End

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