Chapter 11 #2
And this line of questioning brought back all the memories of the plague that had decimated the orc race, specifically our female population. Rich. Poor. No family had been spared.
“Give Enzo a break,” Piotr said, noting my obvious distress.
“The man can’t fix all of his country’s social problems with a snap of his fingers.
He’s here to learn how we do things and bring some ideas home to his kingdom.
Neither of our homes seems to be getting healthcare right, so we can hardly criticize him for that.
He’s trying to make things better for his people. ”
Was I? I blinked, wondering where Piotr had gotten the idea that I was here for some sort of diplomatic exchange of policy and governmental programs.
“And he’s here to find a bride.” Piotr winked and patted my biceps again. “One of our lucky Baltimore gals is gonna win big with Enzo as a husband.”
That spurred all sorts of excited descriptions of grandchildren, great nieces, and neighbors, complete with pictures on cell phones thrust under my nose.
Forget Tinder. The easiest way to find a human female bride was evidently to announce your intentions at a pub full of elderly humans.
In less than ten minutes I was informed of a dozen suitable females who could be introduced to me within the next week, and was told I should have a ring ready.
Piotr brought me a beverage with alcohol in a spicy tomato base that was garnished with enough vegetables and seafood to make a meal out of.
There was even a slab of thick bacon shoved into the glass with all the other food items. It was an interesting way to consume breakfast—one I found myself enjoying greatly.
The elderly humans drank their own breakfast drinks and carried on a lively discussion about their various ailments sprinkled with gossip about people I didn’t know.
When our glasses were empty and the food items consumed, Piotr informed me that we would all be walking to the nearby park to play games.
I couldn’t imagine what sorts of games this group of humans would play. Our games back home tended to be feats of strength or speed or ability with a weapon. We didn’t have a geriatric division, but as we slowly made our way to the park, I began to think that perhaps we should.
Sadly the games these humans intended to play were not of the physical variety.
The section of the park we walked to held tables with stools and chairs bolted to them.
Many of the tables were painted in a checkerboard pattern, and others were plain.
Everyone began to pull boxes from handbags and backpacks, opening them up to reveal disks or carved figures, and even foldable boards.
“Hnefatafl!” I said, delighted. It had been years since I’d played the game, but I had many fond memories of my wins and losses playing other orcs down by the wharf.
“Chess, checkers, and backgammon,” Frank informed me. “Although sometimes one of us brings cards and we play hearts or pinocle.”
“What’s Hnefatafl?” Helen asked as she set a row of white carved figures along the edge of a checkerboard table.
“It’s a game from my homeland. Children learn it, and during the cold evenings of the winter, all ages play it by the fire after dinner. It’s a strategy game where one player is the defender and the other lays siege to the kingdom.” I smiled at the memories.
“Bring it by and teach us the rules,” Benny said. “We’re always looking for a new game.”
“I’m not sure they sell the game here in the human world, but I can probably make a set of pieces and a board.
” My woodworking skills were pretty non-existent, but I could use a saw and at a minimum paint the playing area on a piece of cardboard.
This weekend I’d find a store that sold the supplies I needed and assemble a rudimentary set in my hovel.
It would keep the boredom at bay, and it would be fun to teach these elderly humans a game from my home and childhood.
“In the meantime.” Dave waved a hand toward a table set up with carved and stained figures. “Sit down and lose a game of chess.”
Dave wasn’t kidding about losing. The game was intriguing, a more complicated version of Hnefatafl where both sides were the aggressors attempting to strategize their way into capturing the king piece.
I played against all six of the humans and lost each time, although it took my opponent a bit longer to pin my king into a corner in the last two games.
That might have been my increasing knowledge of the game, but I got the impression that it was because Benny and Helen were not as skilled as the others.
Helen admitted as much when she knocked my king over with her knight, and announced this was the first time she’d won in two weeks.
“I’m more of a backgammon player,” she confessed with a smile.
I was prepared to try again, but the group told me it was time for lunch, and that they hoped to see me the next morning.
My life had gotten just a bit more interesting.
Yes, I still needed to find a bride, but in the meantime my days wouldn’t be filled with staring at the walls of my hovel or the annoyance of going to the arena to watch the other orcs make complete fools of themselves.
I could meet this entertaining group of geriatrics at their breakfast pub, then play games with them until lunchtime.
Then be completely bored for the rest of the day.