Chapter 16
Between the lunch and dinner service, Rylana settled into the office to update the books. Jildarin was humming happily in the kitchen, and did she catch him repeating a few phrases in the dwarven tongue? Maybe they were quotes highlighting the culinary passions of the largely subterranean people.
As Rylana was putting together a grocery list to replenish the pantry, Sylin poked her head through the door.
“Are you aware that there are numerous goblin children ranging from toddlers to surly teenagers in your dining room?” she asked.
“Uhm?” Rylana leaned out of her chair to peer down the hallway.
“The last I saw, a couple of diners were lingering up front and on the rooftop terrace, but they weren’t surly.
They were fat and content after their orange-sauce-smothered duck-salad croissant sandwiches.
Those are delicious, by the way. If Jildarin has any left you should snag… ”
She trailed off as two laughing green-skinned children with wild white hair ran through the dining room. From halfway down the hallway, Rylana only saw them briefly.
“Rolf’s kids?” she guessed.
He’d never brought them by the diner before, but she’d heard often of his dual wives and numerous offspring.
“One hopped up to me when I walked in,” Sylin said, “and asked if I wanted to tip him.”
“They must be Rolf’s kids then.”
As if her saying his name had summoned him, Rolf strode into view with a toddler perched on his shoulders, a rag in his hand, and a finger pointing at someone out of view. “You’re here to clean and learn how to be good worker goblins, not play.”
Giggles came from the direction he was pointing. The kid on his shoulders tugged at his hair.
“That… looks like a handful.” Rylana glanced toward the kitchen, hoping Jildarin wouldn’t storm out, grumpy at pint-sized goblins running around in the dining room.
“It was about eleven handfuls from what I saw. I came to see if you were grievously injured last night.” Sylin looked her up and down, though Rylana’s upright position should have suggested a degree of haleness.
“I heard from Captain Laridon, for whom I’ve been completing a small task, who spoke with Captain Dindarin, that a pair of dwarves waylaid you in an alley last night. They said Mya was also there.”
“Yes. We’re fine.”
“That’s a relief. It would be a shame if she were terribly wounded and couldn’t bake for a time.”
“Did you check on her first?”
“Yes, but only because the bakery was on my way. Further, you’re a trained warrior, so I assumed you had held your own to some degree. She’s a grandmother.”
“Indeed.”
“I also came to see if you want to return to the market with the horn,” Sylin said. “I had a thought about a stall that I remembered we were near when the dragons showed up.”
“Sure.” Rylana was about to tell her about the dwarven diplomat’s visit, but two more goblins shrieked past the hallway and distracted her.
“Cleaning involves more groaning and scrubbing,” Rolf said sternly, waving the rag as he strode after them, “and less unnecessary glee.”
“Maybe we should see if he needs help.” Rylana headed up the hallway.
“We? I’m not a babysitter. Besides, you’ve just enticed me with the promise of duck-salad croissants.” Sylin peered into the kitchen as a chalky cloud of white dust flowed out.
Maybe Jildarin was experimenting with calcium salts—he’d mentioned that dwarves enjoyed flavoring their food with them.
When Rylana reached the dining room, she found Rolf and… goodness. Were all of his children there? The diners who’d been lingering earlier had wisely departed.
“Is everything okay, Rolf?”
“My wives are sick.” Rolf’s expression was exasperated, aggrieved, and betrayed all at the same time. “Both of them.”
“With a family that size, I’m amazed they aren’t sick more often,” Sylin said, catching up to Rylana. Maybe Jildarin had glowered when she’d peeked into the kitchen.
“Hush,” Rylana murmured to her.
“My ma isn’t home to watch them,” Rolf said, “and the neighbor who sometimes helps out had to go to work early today.”
“I think it’s all right to have them here until the dinner service starts,” Rylana said, “but I’d keep them out of the storeroom. Jildarin gets persnickety about people in his lair.”
“Oh, I know. Even if you’re retrieving flour for him, he asks why it took so long and makes sure you didn’t linger unnecessarily in the spot on the floor where he rests his scaled belly.
I told the kids that a dragon works here and will roast them with fire if they go into the kitchen or his lair.
They’re more fascinated than scared, and I’ve had a hard time keeping them from running back there to peer at him. ”
Gniknik’s dish-collecting contraption rumbled past, two children riding inside it and squealing as it maneuvered around the dining room.
With longer hair, they might have been girls, but all of the youngsters wore similar clothes made from burlap and canvas, and Rylana couldn’t tell if the styles suggested gender or not.
Sylin pointed toward one of the side windows. An older male child was climbing up one of the vines that dangled over the railing from the terrace. Fortunately, the magical elven flora was sturdy.
“Two hells,” Rolf blurted.
He set his shoulder-rider on the table and ran outside to check on the climber.
“Despite your father’s pressure,” Sylin said, “I think you’ve been wise not to have children.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want quite so many anyway,” Rylana murmured. “They’re kind of cute, though, don’t you think?”
“No.”
“Two children might be manageable.”
“No.”
Despite the chaos they were creating, Rylana thought some of the goblins were adorable, especially the younger ones. In an overwhelming kind of way. Oh, there was another one dangling from a vine near the window. Dangling and swinging like a chimpanzee.
“They do seem like they’d be challenging to keep in line,” Rylana admitted. “I doubt Plant Master Chalora had that use in mind for her decorative foliage.”
“Funny that you should mention her.” Sylin raised her eyebrows. “My hypothesis revolves around her plants. Are you ready to go to the market?”
“Do you think I should leave Jildarin alone with only Rolf to keep an eye on all these children?”
“Your dragon can roar and breathe fire if they irk him.”
“Incinerating the offspring of your employees is frowned upon.”
“I didn’t suggest he breathe fire at them. Just near them. Having a few strands of hair torched tends to instill good behavior.”
“Something the wolves taught you?”
“Don’t be silly. Wolves can’t breathe fire. They can only bite you.”
One of the girls riding in the dish collector tumbled out when it clipped a table leg.
Rylana took a step toward her, but the child recovered quickly, finding her feet.
With wide green eyes that nearly matched her skin, she looked at Rylana and put a finger in her mouth.
After glancing around—to see if her other siblings would support her? —she walked warily closer.
If the child had been human, Rylana would have guessed her about six years old.
“Is it true you’re mated to a dragon?” the girl asked in a squeaky voice.
“Uhm. Did your father say that?” Rylana glanced through the window and spotted Rolf tugging the swinging goblin down from the vine.
“He said it to my mama.”
“Right now, Jildarin and I are business partners.”
“He said that too. And that you like the dragon because he has a giant zerg stick.”
“That’s not the reason.”
“Still think they’re cute?” Sylin murmured, pointing toward the front door to suggest they leave.
As Rylana had observed before, her elven comrade didn’t have many maternal tendencies.
“You’re the beautiful elf that will be Papa’s third wife, right?” the girl asked Sylin.
Rylana snorted.
“No, I am not,” Sylin said firmly.
“But your ears are pointed. You must be an elf.”
Sylin sighed. “I’m an elf, yes, but I’m not getting married to Rolf.”
“Certainly not to be his third spouse,” Rylana said with a smirk. “You’d want to get at least a second-wife ranking.”
Sylin glared at her.
“Sylin isn’t available to marry Rolf because she’s dating a dragon,” Rylana informed the girl.
“Oh,” she said solemnly, lowering her finger. “Because all dragons have giant zerg sticks.”
“I believe the size of Zilek’s appendage is yet to be determined,” Rylana said. “And I’m not sure this is an appropriate subject matter for children. It’s a little adult. You’d better rejoin your siblings.”
“Something tells me goblins are pretty open about discussing sex around their children,” Sylin said. “How secret can it be, after all, when they’re always having it?”
Once Rolf returned with his wayward vine climbers, Rylana, deeming the children had a modicum of adult supervision, let Sylin lead her out the door. Rolf’s commands for everyone to start cleaning trailed out after them.
“Are you going to tell me your thought?” Rylana asked as they headed toward the market.
“We passed a big garden booth with plant starts for sale. I wondered if it was the foliage that made the horn glow rather than some kitchen ingredient.”
“So far, it’s only glowed twice, and I wasn’t able to replicate it the next time I waved it around the pots on the terrace. Besides, if plants got it excited, wouldn’t it have glowed more often? There are a lot of trees and plants in the city, and we’ve been walking all over.”
“There aren’t that many trees. Outside of the parks and the elven enclave, it’s mostly buildings and cobblestones.”
“There are a lot of parks though. Especially compared to other cities we visited as mercenaries. It’s quite nice here.”
“Does that mean you’re going to settle down and stay for the rest of your life?”