Hyroc

by Freestone, Adam;

  “It’s five Flecks for every spool,” the women said.

  Hyroc walked over to her with the spool in hand and paid for it. “Where are your needles?” he asked politely. She pointed to a pincushion on a nearby shelf. He extricated a needle. “How much for this?”

  “No charge, it’s yours,” she said with a smile. He gave her a surprised look, then felt a smile creep across his face in turn. He nodded gratefully. “Good day,” she said, as he headed out the door.

  From the tailor he made his way to the shop with the kitchenware’s. Feeling a little better about his situation, he walked through the door. A brown-haired woman and a younger woman, who appeared to be her daughter, turned to greet him; both immediately gasped when they saw his face.

  “HEATHEN!” the oldest woman yelled, lunging for a broom propped up against the back wall. Wielding the broom like a halberd, she rushed toward him.

  “WAIT, I’m just here to…” Hyroc managed to call out before the hard part of the broom that held the bristly parts slammed into his face.

  “OUT YOU HIDEOUS BEAST, OUT!” the woman yelled. Hyroc threw a hand up as the woman struck him again even harder. Turning to flee, he took another hit to the back of the head. “YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY DOUGHTER!” The woman got another three hits in on his head before he darted out the door. “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE BEAST,” the woman shouted from the door, brandishing her broom menacingly.

  Every villager present in the square was staring at him with a myriad of interested expressions. With a frustrated sigh, he angrily rubbed the back of his head as he wandered down the nearest street path to escape the unwanted attention.

  He hated people always staring at him and talking about him behind his back, but at least none of those caused him actual pain. Why had the first three shop owners treated him the way they did, while that woman tried to beat him senseless with a broom. “YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY DOUGHTER!” she had said. It was true nearly every parent lashed out at him if he got too close to their children. That usually involved nothing more harmful than some unkind words and a lot of shooing, never an attack. None of them ever made any indication they feared him stealing their children. Maybe his size frightened that woman. Maybe he was big enough to seem capable of whisking small children off into the woods. It wasn’t a very reassuring thought. Reaching up, he began running his hand across his face which had gone from a throbbing sting to an uncomfortable hot sensation. He felt no noticeable difference in his features. If he looked scarier, what was there to do about it? He couldn’t exactly get a new face, well at least not in any way he wished to explore. He could only make the best of it, as he had always done.

  Tearing himself from his thoughts, he realized he was nearing the edge of the village. A pungent odor drifted on a light moisture-laden breeze. There was something familiar about that odor. Following the smell, he saw what looked to be a shop several yards from the last buildings of the village. The pain of the broom strikes flashed through his mind as he looked upon the building. Then the memory of the old woman’s smile made him forget the pain for a moment. Not everyone in the village thought he was a monster. Elsa definitely didn’t think he was. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his worries aside and walked over to the shop. Inside he found a variety of leather goods. A burly blond haired man entered the shop through an open backdoor. The man paused taking in Hyroc’s features. He didn’t seem alarmed, but there was mistrust in his eyes. His expression seemed to say, “take one step out of line and I’ll make you pay for it.”

  “Do you have any collars, like umm, for a dog?” Hyroc said tentatively.

  The man gave him a strange look. “I have a few,” the man said in an unexpectedly deep voice. He walked over to a shelf behind a counter with a pair of leather gloves laid across its top, removing three dusty collars of different sizes. Unsure exactly how big Kit would get, Hyroc pointed to a medium-sized collar with a loop for attaching a leash.

  “That’ll be eight Flecks,” the man said. Hyroc reached into his coin sack, pausing with dismay feeling only eight Flecks left. With an effort, he removed the last of its contents and set them on the counter. “Anything else?”

  “No,” he said with a quiet sigh.

  “Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Unsure which part of the village this was in relation to his cabin, he reluctantly headed back toward the village center. Hopefully, everyone’s interest in the broom incident had subsided by now. As he reentered the circular space, most of the earlier onlookers had left. The Tavern caught his attention. He remembered the teachers at the boarding school and even Marcus mentioning going to one in Forna. It seemed an important place from the way they always talked about it, but beyond drinking beer, he had no idea what went on inside. Curiosity piqued, he headed inside to have a look. The inside smelled of what he assumed was beer, along with a few aromas somewhat more pleasant. Tables were scattered throughout the structure, with a long table toward the middle in front of a fireplace with a tusked boar’s head mounted above. Behind a counter at the right wall stood a tall broad-shouldered man, with black hair and a bushy beard of a matching color, absentmindedly wiping down the flat wood in front of him with a cloth. Men in separate group’s occupied tables scattered throughout the Tavern, all with a pint of beer in front of them. Beyond an initial glance, no one seemed to pay much heed to his entrance. Hyroc had to admit he was disappointed by what he saw, there didn’t seem to be anything remotely interesting about this place.

  Catching a snatch of a conversation between a group of men talking about hunting spots and some references to what other people were doing, he covertly slipped into the chair of a nearby table to listen with his back toward the men. As he listened, it slowly donned on him why it seemed people came here. There really wasn’t anything special about the tavern, people came here to talk to friends and to find out what was going on around the village. This place might be useful after all.

  The men said their goodbyes after a few minutes and dispersed, leaving behind their beer steins. Looking at the unattended steins, he wondered what beer tasted like. Every patron he saw had a stein and he could only assume they contained something tasty. Stealing a quick glance around, no one was looking in his direction. He snatched a half-full stein off the table. Heart pounding with the thrill of his theft, he darted over to a shaded corner, away from the tavern’s occupants. Carefully tipping the stein to his mouth, he eagerly took a drink. He frowned. It actually wasn’t close to something he wanted to drink. Why was everyone drinking this? I’ve drank better tasting water than this. Disappointed, he set down the stein and snuck out the door.

  As he headed toward the street that led toward his cabin, he heard a familiar voice call his name. Turning, he saw Elsa waving as she made her way over to him with a basket in her arms. Nearly forgetting what the appropriate response was, he waved back after a long pause.

  “I’m glad you’re still here,” she said relieved. “I was worried they had scared you off.”

  “It’ll take a little more than that to scare me off,” Hyroc said proudly. Though that wasn’t anywhere close to the truth. Her father and brother had almost done so.

  “I’m sorry for not coming to see you, but my father was angry with me for not telling him about you and he wouldn’t let me leave the house until today.”

  He gave her a strange look. That hardly seemed something worth apologizing about. “Why are you sorry, it was only two days? It’s not like you abandoned me for months.”

  “I know, but after what you went through, it seemed the kind thing to do.”

  He smiled gratefully. “Thank you; kindness isn’t something I’m used to.”

  Elsa frowned sympathetically. “Mother, over here,” she said, with a beckoning gesture towards somebody.

  Looking in the director she had indicated, Hyroc saw Elsa’s mother coming over to join them.

  “I’m sorry about how we first met,” Elsa’s mother said, with a look of displeasure. “You must thin
k we’re terrible people. We thought – we thought you were something else.”

  “I understand,” Hyroc said, reluctantly keeping his anger from appearing.

  “I want to prove to you we’re not as bad as you think. My name’s Helen and though you probably already know her name, this is my daughter Elsa.”

  “I’m Hyroc.”

  “It’s good to meet the one who saved my daughter, Hyroc.”

  “See, just like I told you he’s like everyone else,” Elsa said with a smile.

  “Indeed he is,” Elsa’s mother agreed with a smile. She paused. “I have a wonderful idea, how would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow, love?”

  Hyroc gave her a surprised look; no one had ever dared to invite him over for dinner. What was with this place? “You umm really want me to come into your umm home?”

  “Of course we would. With us being neighbors and all, we should get to know each other properly and put the past behind us. It’s the least my family can do after what you did for my daughter.”

  “I – I would like that.”

  “Great.”

  “You won’t be disappointed by my mother’s cooking,” Elsa said beaming.

  “Anyone’s cooking is better than mine,” Hyroc admitted. The only two recipes he seemed to know were burnt meat and dirt crusted meat.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, but we should be getting to our errands,” Elsa’s mother said kindly. “We look forward to having you over tomorrow night.”

  “As do I.”

  “Good day,” Elsa and her mother said in turn, before heading off toward the shops. Hyroc headed home to put a collar on what would no doubt be a very upset mountain lion.

  That night, he waited until Kit had dozed to put the collar on. It went around his neck easily enough but an instant later, the cub had slid the collar back off. Hyroc growled in frustration. As soon as he came in for another attempt, Kit growled angrily and started swatted at Hyroc with his razor-sharp claws. Hyroc backed away, put on his gloves and ran at the cub. Startled Kit, recoiled leaving an opening in his stance for Hyroc to immobilize him by seizing the scruff of his neck. He lightly placed a foot on Kit’s back just to be sure, then put the collar back on. This time he made sure it was on tight enough.

  He laughed triumphantly, releasing his grip on Kit. The infuriated cub flipped over onto his back, latched onto Hyroc’s leg above the boot and began biting it savagely. Hyroc yelled out in pain and detached the cub’s claws and teeth from his skin. With a hiss, Kit fell onto his side scratching at the collar. Looking down to examine the extent of his injury at a safe distance from his attacker, Hyroc found a tear in his leggings. He pulled his pant leg up. He didn’t seem to be bleeding but the scratches were deep enough to hurt like he was. Kit struggled to get the collar off for a few minutes without any success. Once he realized it wasn’t coming off, he flopped down on the floor glaring at Hyroc and began making a very irritated growling noise.

  “Oh it’s not that bad,” Hyroc said.

  Kit glared at him more severely, and the fiery look in his eyes seemed to say, “Then why don’t you have one?”

  “At least I didn’t hit you in the head with a broom!” Hyroc said, reaching for the needle and thread.

  CHAPTER 31

  Stray Dog

  The surface of the gently flowing stream was serenely smooth beside Hyroc as he knelt shirtless, scrubbing his jerkin with one of the old rags from the chest in his cabin. Kit lay sprawled out beneath the bristly skirt of a nearby tree half-asleep. He had exhausted himself by spending the previous night and most of the day unsuccessfully trying to get his collar off. Hyroc hoped this would be the last of Kit’s defiance; he had not slept much because of the cub’s incessant spasms to rid himself of the collar.

  He wetted his rag in the stream. This was the first time he had been invited into someone’s home and making sure his clothes were clean seemed an appropriate response to the occasion. It should help prove to the family he had a sense for cleanliness and wasn’t some manner less thing. Marcus had always said, “If you don’t want people to think you’re no better than an animal, make sure your clothes are spotless.”

  Returning his gaze to his jerkin, he frowned, noticing a dried blood smear on its right side. It looked a few days old, making him wonder how long it had been there. Was it there when he ventured into the village? Maybe that’s why the woman had reacted so violently. It might have made her think he just attacked somebody on his way to her shop. Then again, she was probably too preoccupied with his features and grabbing a broom to notice the blood. Regardless of the reason, it would only make him look unsightly at dinner with the Shackleton’s. Luckily, after some hard scrubbing, the blood came off. The rest of the jerkin looked as clean as he was going to get it. Satisfied, he slipped it back on.

  “Okay Kit, time to go,” he said, rising to his feet. Other than an ear twitch, Kit remained asleep. Hyroc poked him with the end of his boot. Kit stretched his limbs absentmindedly then shoved his head under his paws without opening his eyes. “You can sleep when you get back to the cabin, now get up I’ve got to get going soon.” Kit remained motionless. Rolling his eyes, Hyroc reached down and picked him up. Kit yowled in protest, giving him a scathing look. “Don’t give me that look; you’re the one who wouldn’t get up.” Kit began to growl, but made little effort to free himself. “Yeah, I can tell how much you want down,” Hyroc said sarcastically.

  He headed off toward his cabin with his unhappy passenger in his arms. As usual, he tied Kit to a tree outside his cabin, securing the twine to the small loop of leather on the collar. Using his back leg, Kit scratched at the collar. Hyroc smiled with relief when Kit’s foot returned to the ground, he rested his chin on his paws, and closed his eyes. I actually might be able to sleep tonight. He frowned at the bite marks all over the twine. How much longer could it restrain the cub? He figured he should probably replace it with rope soon. With that thought in mind, he headed off toward the Shackleton’s cabin.

  He approached the cabin from the road, as it seemed the proper way to come to the cabin. The instant he entered the clearing, the family’s hound made his presence known with a chorus of excited barks. It rushed up to him in a flurry and began growling. He stood his ground considering whether or not he should find a rock. “I’m sorry; I hit you with a rock,” he said apologetically. “I won’t do it again, just please let me by.” The dog suddenly stopped growling, regarding him curiously. He gave the hound a strange look, surprised by its sudden change in behavior.

  “Dilo, stop harassing our guest,” Svald called out, as he stepped from behind the cabin. He made a stern sweeping motion with his arms as he drew close. “Come on get, you crazy mutt.” The dog bounded off. “I hope she didn’t bother you too much.”

  “No, she wasn’t a bother,” Hyroc said. “Not compared to how dogs usually react to me.”

  Svald looked thoughtful a moment. “I know we got off on the wrong foot with that whole incident the other day. It wasn’t anything against you, I misunderstood the situation and was doing what I thought best for my family. I hope you understand that. And I’d like to put all that behind us and start over.”

  “I would too.” Though he suspected forgetting about it would be a lot harder.

  “I’m glad to hear that. Supper should be done soon; you can head inside if you want. We’re finishing up a few chores while we wait and then we’ll be right in.”

  Hyroc nodded, heading for the cabin door. On the porch, he saw the old man sitting on a stool.

  “I warned my daughter about feeding strays,” the old man said, without turning his head to look at him. “You feed them once and they’ll just keep coming back for more. And they might seem tame, but as soon as you stop feeding them, they’ll show you their true nature. And when they eventually do, there’s only one way to deal with them.”

  Hyroc gave him a sideways look. Being called a stray was pleasant compared to most of the demeaning things people said
to him. But he sometimes did feel like a stray no one wanted. He opened the door and stepped inside. Helen stood at the cabin’s fireplace stirring the steaming contents of a tin soup pot hanging above the flames. Sweeping his eyes around, he took a moment to take in the cabin’s interior. It was much nicer than his cabin. He couldn’t help feeling a little envious about what he saw.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” Helen said, looking at him with a grateful smile. Hyroc nodded thankfully. She tapped the wooden spoon off on top of the pot. “Could you help me get this dished up so it can cool.” He regarded her curiously then took a step toward her. She frowned and he felt a bolt of fear at her expression; what had he done wrong? “Take your boots off please,” she said, indicating his feet. He looked down at his boots; feeling irritated something so simple had elicited such a response from him. These people weren’t going to hurt him. They wouldn’t have invited him into their home otherwise. He took his boots off, setting them by the door. Helen looked at his feet inquisitively before beckoning him over. “This one’s yours,” she said, filling a bowl and holding it out to him. Hesitantly, he accepted it. “You can sit wherever you want.” He set his bowl on the opposite side of the table where he could see the other family members as they entered. Then in likewise manner, the two of them set a bowl out for the rest of the family. “Thank you,” she said, gently squeezing his hand.

  “You’re welcome,” Hyroc replied, looking at her hand. It seemed a strange thing for someone to do but it was comforting.

  She let go, headed over to the door and stuck her head outside. “DINNER,” she called out. Taking that as his cue to sit, Hyroc sat down at his bowl. One by one, the rest of the family filed in.

  The old man frowned in mild surprise, seeing Hyroc seated at the table. “Well at least it has manners,” the old man scoffed, as he settled into a chair. Helen glared at him.