“I appreciate that, Ranger Bobbick. I will meet you here at sun rise and have a man guide you down. Would you mind if I came to the semi-fores with you?”

  “By all means, I would appreciate the company. I don’t have a mount that’ll keep up with yours though.”

  “I don’t mind a good walk, but I’ll bring Maggie to carry our gear and in case we need a quick exit.”

  “Suit yourself, we just spent the last week hiking out from Riverhouse and nary saw a sprint, let alone giants or trolls.”

  “A lot can change overnight in the Bone Spires, best to be prepared.”

  19

  Full ship

  “So as I was sayin’ about the twins out west. Rumor has they are getting' into some tough spots out there and comin’ through clean every time. Trolls, giants, and somethin’ else has been settin’ up shop, It’s gonna be causin’ some problems I would guess right soon,” Pomen said as Thorvald scratched at his leg under the clay cast that one of the piners had made that was enclosed in thin vertical strips of wood, then bound tightly with twine. It made the frost piner’s broken leg look absolutely monstrous.

  “What’s all this business about giants and such, are we walking through story land now?” Thorvald scoffed. “It’s going to be hard to get piners riled up about fairy tales, you know. Frickin’ trolls were wiped out over three hundred years ago and nobody even believes they was real trolls back then, believing instead to be some particularly ugly humans with very large three toed feet.”

  “They’re real big, I seen em an they was never even close to being wiped out. Elves have been keeping their numbers down for the last few hundred years allowing you folks to work in peace. An besides, you should remember that most people think you are nothing but ugly humans with big feet,” Pomen said with his sly smirk as he sucked on his pipe.

  “Bahhh, you know nothing,” Thorvald scoffed again.

  “Ah…excuse me,” Tic said and the two men turned to look at him and he felt very small even though Pomen was substantially smaller than he was. It was the knowledge or power behind his eyes that told that he was much more than a small goat rider. “Are you two saying that there is a war going on?” He tried to keep the nerves out of his tone, but he knew they picked up on it.

  “Not yet, young one, at least not so as it’s been declared by anyone. Of course, the aerials didn’t declare nothing when they left their aeries to enslave the populace back in the day either,” Pomen replied.

  “True, thank the gods those bastards haven’t come back in force or things could get real dirty,” Thorvald added.

  “Aerials?” Tic gasped but was ignored.

  “The Council of Five monitors their population to this day. It’s said only one in five males makes it to adulthood,” Pomen said and much to Tic and Tia’s surprise and disappointment, chuckled.

  “Those dirty angels need to be destroyed completely, if we was on the council it would be settled forever,” Thorvald boasted.

  “You won’t join the council, so how could you be on it? Aside from that, who would you send? You’re the contact man for the biggest tribe…would you be willing to spend one month out of three in Smith Town?” Pomen said and Tic found himself truly appreciating the straight forward nature of this small man.

  “No, in fact…I think that would kill me, to be completely honest. I can’t even make it from the northern sluice of Riverhouse to the southern without getting claustrophobic and that’s only a couple miles wide and a hundred and twenty long.”

  “You don’t go inside much, huh?” Tia said with a smile at the obvious comment. None of these frost piners went inside much it seemed. Their tents on the island were open sided and they only had the one huge lodge house, but that seemed to be more for social events and one sit down meal a day, otherwise it had been open.

  “I don’t go inside at all girl, if I can help it. Not many piners do, part of the reason why we could never sign up for a spot on the council. We just don’t function right indoors.”

  “Well, you’re gonna haf’ta send someone. A king has died. It’s your duty to respond.”

  “Bah, ain’t no elf out there worryin’ about the piners now is there? Anyone from Bjorvic who wants to go can go, but he’ll only be speakin’ for hisself.”

  “It amazes me that you can live that way, my friend. No rule, no laws…no authority. It just ain’t natural, I say,” Pomen said as he puffed on his pipe and shook his head while he stared at the ship’s deck.

  “And I don’t see how you can live any other way. I don’t have the right to tell another piner what he can do or how he should behave. That’s his or her business and as long as that doesn’t interfere with my business or my family then I can’t care. It’s simply not my business.”

  “It’s madness is what it is. Thousands of people up here that have to work together and share in the harvest and no government…utter insanity and you know it.”

  “It’s not like that, Pomen. We’re all in co-ops that work together and come together when needs be.”

  “Co-ops huh, which one are you in?”

  “Me personally? I’m in the Southern Blues United Fellers. My son, Thyvold, now he’s gotten into the Northern Crane Cutters union. They specialized in the smaller green pines. Less wood, more sap, and it is hard enough to dull any saw, so it’s all done with axe up there. The wood fetches a pretty penny when all said and done. Trick is packing them in enough ice so they stay froze all the way to Smithtown. The young trees generate a little heat you know, figure it’s to keep their sap from freezing completely and blowing themselves up before they get to maturity.”

  “What about the war?” Tic said, trying to bring them back on point.

  “War? Oh yeah…the war.” Thorvald pondered, but it was Pomen who spoke up.

  “If you stay to the main trails and stick to the inside of Riverhouse, you’ll be okay. Dwarfs don’t allow any funny business for miles around and the inside is incorruptible. Riverhouse alone accounts for forty percent of the whole northern clan’s economy and that includes Smithtown as well as the Kingdom.”

  “What about Mikalene?” Tia asked, having always loved the name of the city.

  “Mikalene is Smithtown, lass. No matter what anybody says, they are one and the same. You see, very few people live in Smithtown and they have security that patrol the dark streets. Dwarfs are too damn cheap to keep the place lit, so everybody lives in Mikalene which is ruled by a mixed council, the first of its kind,” Pomen said, obviously loving the chance to sit with eager listeners.

  Tia smiled and Tic stayed at the helm, which was easy since they were sails down and moving at the same speed as the logs themselves as they floated with the current.

  “In fact, I too am in the employ of the dwarfs, though rather indirectly. All of the rangers up here are and we are integral to the security of their northern holdings and paid quite handsomely, I might add. I don’t say that to brag, but more to show you that if you’re good as your boot-making has indicated you are, you can negotiate with them. They are not above paying a fair price, but they will try to screw ya ever time.”

  “I’ve heard that about dwarfs, but never heard much about them until recently,” Tic admitted. “It’s like with the frost piners, I had heard about the giant men who lived in the northern sea, but I never realized they are actually a different species than human.”

  “Aye, we are at that,” Thorvald said confidently.

  “Are ya now, really? Are ya truly not like them?” It was Pomen who spoke off handedly now while he poked, prodded, and slapped his pipe on his palm. He shoved some type of dried weed into the bowl and flicked his finger and spun out a spark to light it. He sucked and looked at Tia who stood wide-eyed at what he had just done and then winked with a smirk.

  “I’ve always wondered how you did that,” Thorvald said.

  “See as many a cold night as I have young man and you will learn a few tricks, of that I am certain.” He nodded toward the giant piner before he began on his next line of reasoning. “It has been said that we were all of one species once and what we see now is merely a separation of races as opposed to being different species.”

  “Bah! It’s all fairy tales and foolishness spread by zealots that believe that crap. Elves will tell you they were first and dwarfs will say that they lived underground for years before the elves ever showed up.” Thorvald scoffed obviously sick of hearing this line of thought.

  “Ah, but the humans across the sea have histories going back much farther than anyone else. They have accountings that go back to the ‘golden age of man’ as they call it. When man could fly through the air in giant machines and sail through even the roughest of seas without sails.”

  “Ah, excuse me, but our histories extend well beyond that and even have speculated histories back into the Stone Age when men first learned how create fire and painted on cave walls all of the game that existed then” Tic interjected.

  “Do ya now? Then where are the flying machines and ships? Where have they gone to?” It was Pomen’s turn to scoff. “It’s all a fabrication and y’all know it.”

  “That would quite an extensive fabrication, dang near impossible I would speculate. As to the flying ships and floating cities of war. Some say there is a moratorium against certain types of development, others say that we destroyed the technology to protect ourselves after the breaking so I really don’t know,” Tic defended. “There is a lot of mis-information about the time before.

  “Well, that’s an argument better saved for another day. What my point would be—” Pomen began again only to be interrupted by Thorvald.

  “Please do get on with it.”

  “I will if you would shut yer damn trap!” Pomen snapped as he glared at the giant who chuckled at the abuse from the diminutive man. My point would be…oh damn it, now I have forgotten what my point was,” Pomen said to which Thorvald burst out laughing. He laughed hard and long until his face started to turn red.

  “Oh shut up, ya big lug. The point is that we all come from one place, one being. How we got separated doesn’t matter because what matters is we’re all here now and we have to live in the now. However, there are those who don’t think so and they want to see the races be as one again. Or at least they want to see one race and I’m not sure they care as to how that comes about.”

  “Fairytales” Thorvald called out.

  “How would that even work?” Tic asked as Tia laughed, not taking this conversation the least bit seriously.

  “Magic!” he said quickly before turning to Tia. “Give me a break here, I’m tryin to educate ya. There are wizards and witches spreading evil sorceries amongst the Bones right now, it’s what the elven twins are already fighting out west. It is also why there are more ranger patrols than ever before. Once I deliver my message to the powers that be, I am off again. The sorcerers want us to be all one kind again and they don’t care who they step on to get it done.”

  “Sorcerers? Bah!” Thorvald scoffed again.

  “So what, there is some kind of magic that will turn you all into humans?” Tia asked skeptically if not a bit too sarcastically.

  “No, lass. The only way that I know of to have only one race is to kill all of the others. It’s not a very pleasant thought I know, but it is a truth we are forced to face. To my knowledge, there are no spells or potions that can change people in that way. Wouldn’t do it if I could, I like what I am an’ don’t plan on changing. Besides, who said they wanted us all to be human?” Pomen said indignantly.

  “Nor should you ever want to change from whatever you are. What exactly are you?” Tia asked in a prodding fashion causing Thorvald to scream with laughter.

  “Bah, absolutely no respect out of the young ones these days,” Pomen said and shook his head again.

  “He’s a bloody gnome is what he is. Most gnomes can’t be trusted, all filled with mischief the way they are, but Pomen here, he’s not like them other ones.”

  “Listen to you an yer prejudices, most gnomes are like me it’s jes when they’re young they like to stir it up a bit. If they survive to adulthood, they usually turn out to be good people. Gods forbid that a young frost piner goes wild during their impressionable youth.”

  “It happens all of the time, Pomen, you’ve seen it. I wasn’t talking about boys sowing their oats though. I mean when a young gnome gets out of hand, you jes swat em like a bug, I was referring to their business dealings always being more than a little suspect.”

  “Ah, yet you never have any proof of wrong doing. You’re lucky I don’t bring you to court for defaming my people, ya stupid gorilla.” Pomen insulted the big man again who simply smiled.

  “It’s good to see you, Pomen, it has been too long.”

  “Aye, it has been too long. Now there is war brewing my friend. It is not going to pass you by like it has in the past, it’d better for the piners to join with us and end the threat early.”

  “The piners just don’t function like that, Pomen. In order to get an army, I would have to be willing to go with them, I am not willing to go. I will always offer you and all fair folk succor in times of need but we do not go to war, we are not an army. We are a labor force who jealously guards their private time. As I said, I will announce what is going on and the people will choose as they may. I will not influence or cajole toward either side other than voicing my personal decision to stay out of it, that is the best I can offer,” Thorvald said, his tone becoming more serious and letting his friend know that was his final decision.

  “I know that my friend; I understand. Gnomes are much the same in that way, which is too bad, we’re going to need both.”

  * * *

  It was when the sounds of heavy breathing and soft incoherent grumbles filled the deck that Tic came to Tia who was now at the helm.

  “It doesn’t sound good, T,” he said to her more than a little afraid of what they were going into.

  “It’s supposed to be an adventure, Tickster,” she replied using his childhood nick name.

  “We can have adventure without walking through the middle of a war though, can’t we?” he protested.

  “Well, I don’t know…I don’t make the rules you know,” she replied, her tone changing in mid-sentence. Tic suddenly realized that she was angry at him and strangely he didn’t care. He would not let her drag them through a war.

  “This is not just my deal, Tic, you chose to come along all on your own, so don’t rely on me for answers. If you don’t want to go into a war zone, then don’t. That is your right, me…I am going to go where ever the wind blows me,” she said with an almost dreamy tone to her voice. Tic knew that he had to change strategies and he had been planning to. It was simply how he did things, he thought them out long before they became a reality.

  “I have an idea,” he said causing her to stop and look at him, noticing the change in his tone and posture.

  “Let’s have it little bro,” she said and swung her hand out to gently grab one of his, showing that she too didn’t want to argue.”

  “Why don’t we get to this Riverhouse and set up shop? That way we can have a safe zone to run to when we are out and about on deliveries and special orders. I know it’s not glamourous, but it is smart and we can see how the different people operate before we just jump into the mix,” Tic said and waited for her to blow up in his face. Much to his surprise she seemed to be considering it.

  “There is merit to what you say, young one. Having a craft shop would also provide us with a status right off the bat, providing us better treatment. How long do we keep it?”

  “A year at least I think, I probably won’t be going anywhere to tell you the truth, but we could find you some kind of companion to watch your back while you do whatever it is you plan on doing. It would be nice to just settle in and work the craft for a while as I set up my own accounting system. I have some ideas that could really make things easier.”

  “By the gods, brother, you are the most boring individual in the entire world, it is hard to believe we are even related.”

  “It’s not boring to me though. To me all of the…social interaction and pandering is obnoxious and a waste of time. I don’t know why I feel that way, I just do. To be honest, I am happier when I am working, especially numbers.” Tic knew that made him odd but he didn’t care. He loved working with his hands, stretching and sewing leather and shaping it into a high-quality product that benefitted people’s lives, as well as getting the numbers to crunch. People as a whole were fake, numbers and work made sense.

  “Okay, we can set up shop for a year, but we hire some people for the heavy lifting. Last thing I want is shoulders like a frost piner at my young age. However, I won’t commit to being there one hundred percent of the time. There is a lot I want to see so…take it or leave it.”

  “I’ll take it; I’m actually excited now.” Tic smiled as he looked ahead, truly feeling that his destiny was in his own hands for the first time in his life. He recalled feeling this way before, a couple of months ago when he and Tia left their home in Lemure. They later found out that their leaving was a brilliant manipulation between their father and uncle. He couldn’t help but feel that this time, it would be different.

  “Why does it irritate you so?” Tia asked.

  “What? What irritates me?”

  “Socializing with people?” she said and he thought about it for a long.

  “Socializing on anything other than a business or institutional level feels phony to me. You go out and say nice things about people you feel the opposite of and convince yourself you are being deceitful for the purpose of social grace. You tell them whatever they’re working on is beautiful when our own Da would throw us out of the shop for such sloppy work. You make people think you like them and they can talk to you when you really don’t want to spend one more second with them than you have to.”