Chapter Eleven #2
“And it’s good to see you, alive, might I add,” Thror said as he glided over and pulled me into a tight hug. “We received the carrier pigeon. And my men have informed me of the king’s men in our town.”
“They won’t be here for long,” I reassured him. “They’re just keeping an eye on me and making sure I haven’t been keeping the shard up my ass this whole time.”
“And have you?” Thror snorted, which earned him a playful jab in the side from me.
“The shard is somewhere safe, but its presence can’t be known to them,” I warned.
“My people are already aware,” Thror said with a grave nod. “But what brings you to Midhallow today if you’re being so closely watched?”
“Well, Ellyn and I need to pick up some things for a nursery,” I revealed as a grin spread across my face.
Thror’s bright green eyes bulged out of his head, and he clamped a hand on my shoulder as he sucked in a breath.
“A… nursery?” he rasped. “You two… you and Ellyn?”
“Not yet,” I repeated the same thing I’d told Kristoff. “But we’re trying.”
“Well, congratulations ahead of time then,” Thror said with a broad smile. “I’m sure sooner or later you’ll have a little one running around the farm.”
“That’s the hope,” I chuckled as I wrapped my arm around Ellyn’s shoulders and pulled her to my side. “We’re going to pick up a few things and then head back, but there is something else I want to run by you.”
“You’ve piqued my interest,” the pale-skinned orc said as his thick eyebrows raised to his hairline. “What is it?”
“I’ve recently acquired some Emberhorn Goats,” I said. “They’re producing a shit ton of milk every day, and I’ve started making it into cheese, so… I was wondering if you’d like to be a proud investor and strike some kind of a trade deal with me again.”
“Emberhorn Goat cheese?” Thror’s mouth dropped open, and I saw his pupils dilate. “You… You have that?”
“I’ve brought some for you to try,” I said as I pointed to the door. “It’s on the back of my wagon.”
“Say no more,” Thror said as he grabbed my elbow and practically dragged me out the door.
“Hey, bring some for me!” Kristoff called out before the door slammed shut behind us.
Thror was already crawling on top of the wagon and heading for the crate like a bloodhound, so I stayed back with my girls and watched him with an amused smile.
Then I spotted Aila out of the corner of my eye. She was posted by the fountain and watching us intently from the back of her horse. No doubt Giian had ordered her to keep a close eye and report back anything suspicious.
But all she was going to see was the young mayor of the town salivating over a small portion of goat cheese.
Once he found it, Thror stared down at the blocked cheese like he’d just found gold, and he reached into the crate with a shaking hand to break a piece off.
“You’re sure this is alright?” Thror asked as he slowly raised the off-white chunk to his lips.
“I wouldn’t have brought it if it wasn’t,” I chuckled and folded my arms. “Have a taste. See if you like it.”
Without any further prompting, Thror shoved the chunk and his fingers into his mouth, and his green eyes fluttered shut as his entire posture slumped against the back of the wagon.
“Hell’s taint,” he mumbled as he slowly pulled his fingers out of his mouth. “It’s like liquid gold.”
“I take it that you’re interested in investing?” I teased. “So far, I’m selling it for three gold a pound.”
“I’ll take what you’ve got here and send some men up soon for another shipment,” the mayor said without hesitation, and his back suddenly straightened. “Whatever you have to spare, I’ll take it.”
“You’re that eager?” I snorted. “I didn’t realize this stuff would be such a hit.”
“This stuff tastes incredible, and the heat from it will do wonders for my people during the winter,” Thror said. “It will be a hit.”
“Then I guess we’ve got a deal,” I said as I offered him my hand.
Thror crawled back across the wooden panels and shook my hand firmly. Then he reached back with a dramatic grunt and pulled the crate out with him.
“I’ll grab your gold from the town hall while you’re shopping,” the silver-haired mayor said as he propped the crate on his hip. “We can meet back at the inn afterward? I enjoy spending time there rather than being cooped up in my office.”
“That sounds very… you,” I commented with a smirk.
“What can I say?” Thror winked. “I’m a creature of habit.”
“Well, then, I guess we’ll see you soon,” I said. “It shouldn’t take us too long to find what we need.”
“Did Kristoff tell you where to look?” Thror asked as he began making his way up the street.
“Yeah, we know the places to go,” I said. “Enjoy your cheese, Mayor.”
“Oh, I certainly will, Farmer!” Thror called back with a wave of his free hand. “I certainly will.”
“He seemed to be happy with that deal,” Karrida said once Thror was out of earshot.
“I’m not surprised at all,” I snorted. “Emberhorn cheese is clearly a hit.”
“He’s right about it being good for the winter,” Ellyn commented. “We should take some to the bakers to sell there, too. Since the milk stays perpetually warm through magic instead of another fuel source, people could use it to warm their homes.”
“We could even put the excess in the barn for storage to keep the animals warm,” I added. “If it doesn’t spoil and doesn’t cool down, there’s no need to store it in the freezer.”
“And when you build your greenhouse, you could put a few crates in there too to keep it warm,” my wife suggested. “Those goats were a blessing.”
“You can all hold back your gratitude for now,” Karrida drawled with a playful grin on her face. “After all, I was the one who said we should go find the source of those sounds the other night.”
“Yes, yes, thank you, Karrida,” I said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “We are very grateful.”
“Heyyy, you could at least try to be sincere!” the half-dwarf whined as her lower lip jutted out in a pout. “You were all debating whether it was worth it.”
“And we listened in the end,” I said as I pulled her to my side. “Do you want a percentage of the cut? Is that what this is about?”
“You’re insufferable,” the ginger-haired woman huffed and crossed her arms, but I could tell she wasn’t actually upset by the smile threatening to spread across her lips.
“Come on, goat-saver,” I teased as I steered both girls in the direction of the woodworkers. “We’ve got a mattress to find.”
Witchall’s Woodworks was signposted by a big block of oak sticking out the side of one of the buildings leading away from the fountain. The store name was engraved into the wood, along with a surprisingly detailed carving of a hand holding an axe.
I heard the faint clop of hooves behind us, and after a quick glance over my shoulder, I spotted Aila tailing us as we made our way into the small store.
The heady smell of sawdust and wood oil immediately greeted us as we walked in, and it wasn’t hard to tell why when we looked around.
We were surrounded by all sorts of wooden furniture and carvings.
Tables and chairs were lined in the center of the room, while sculptures of birds and dragons bordered the walls.
A short, fat man was perched on a high barstool behind a wooden counter at the far end of the room, and the counter was covered in wood shavings from a small block of wood he was chiseling into with a sharp blade.
The top of his head was completely bald, but a few wisps of gray hair had been brushed over to give the illusion of a hairline.
Bloodshot brown eyes snapped up to us as we stepped further into the wooden room, but they immediately softened. A lopsided smile found its way onto the dwarf’s wrinkled face, and he hopped down from his stool with a resounding thud.
“Welcome to Witchall’s Woodworks, finest place for the finest of crafts,” the dwarf began his spiel as he hobbled over to us. “I am Witchall himself-- hold your applause until the end-- and I offer every type of furniture and decor you could ever want.”
“This place is impressive,” I said as I glanced around the room. “I take it you made it all yourself?”
“Every last piece in here was crafted by yours truly,” Witchall said with a proud puff of his broad chest. “What are you looking for today, young man?”
“I’m actually looking for a mattress for a crib,” I said. “As much as I’m sure your cribs are built perfectly, I’ve already built ours.”
“Hmmph, well, I suppose I can help in finishing the job,” Witchall mumbled with a lot less enthusiasm than before. “Standard crib size?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said with a bashful smile. “I sort of eyeballed it.”
“Well, let’s see what I have for you.” The chubby dwarf waddled behind his counter and through a door in the back of the room.
The three of us were left in an awkward silence, which I ended up breaking with a short laugh.
“I don’t think he’s very happy with me,” I said to the girls.
“Business is business.” Ellyn shrugged. “You might not be buying something he crafted, but he’s still getting money at the end of the day.”
“Dwarves are proud folk,” Karrida said as her bright blue eyes ghosted over the museum of wooden figures. “You might still be giving him money, but it’s not for something he’s made himself.”
“Do you think I should get something else?” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I kinda feel bad for the guy. He seemed so proud of everything in here.”
“Let’s take a look,” Ellyn said as she looped her arm through mine and pulled me toward a stacked corner. “Maybe there’s something we can hang for the little one.”
“I’ll take a look on the other side of the room,” Karrida said as she skipped away from us.
Witchall had an endless supply of everything and anything made out of wood. There were smaller fist-sized sculptures of all sorts of animals, some I recognized, and some I’d never seen before.
There were shelves that had other shelves stacked on top of them, with some having intricate hooks bejeweled with gold and silver. Bookcases three times his height stretched to the ceiling and housed even more small figurines.