Chapter 20

Penny skipped through the door, apparently unconcerned about any additional danger from the old man. I walked through at a slower pace, keeping the cat kin between me and him. As we walked through the farmhouse, I noticed it had clearly seen better days. Not that any of it showed any signs of being dilapidated. There were no signs of structural neglect. Instead, it was the pile of dust that sat around empty vases, or hooks that no longer had pictures attached.

The feeling increased as we entered the living room. It was obvious that someone, at some point, had cared about how the home looked. All the furniture matched, and art hung on the walls. Doilies sat on the coffee table, and they looked carefully handcrafted. Before he sat down, I watched as Jenkins walked to a large portrait that hung above the fireplace.

It depicted what I imagined was a younger version of him. He was tall, broad shouldered and strong, with a shock of black hair. Next to him was his wife, willowy, but with a wide smile and long light brown hair, so fair as to almost be dark blonde. Between them stood a boy, matching his father’s smile, but with his mother’s hair and subtle sea green coloured eyes. They all wore their Sunday best.

“That’s an impressive portrait, sir.” I moved to stand beside him, and I spotted a familiar watermill in the background. “Did you get that done here?”

Jenkins nodded, his voice soft and filled with a love and sorrow that was rare to hear. “We did. A year before the attack and everyone moving. We had an artist stop in here, and I knew I had to take the opportunity to have him depict my darling Annabelle. She was so beautiful. Even when we turned old and grey, she was the light of my life.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Penny said, as she moved to stand on his other side.

“Me too.” Jenkins reached out, but he didn’t touch the portrait, though his fingers traced her cheek as though he did. “She refused to let the artist paint her alone. It had to be us as a family. That was what she wanted to remember. Broke her heart when Damien went running off after that trollop.”

“Myra wasn’t a trollop,” Penny admonished gently.

Jenkins snorted and gave her a sidelong glance. “She stole my son from me. You and she should be glad I don’t use harsher words.”

“Yes, yes.” Penny’s tone carried a hint of humour, as though they had had the conversation enough for any true venom to be long gone. “Do you want me to get you something to drink? We have news to celebrate.”

“What’s that then?” He perked up when Penny mentioned finding a drink.

“Our Money Man here is finally convincing Rita that gold helps us buy things. We’re going to be getting new jobs soon. Plus, he’ll be your new roommate.”

Jenkins let out a little scoff, but didn’t protest when Penny led him over to a well-used armchair. She helped him settle down and then moved to hand him a blanket. That earned her a larger scoff as he waved it away.

“Girl, I come from the north. Our slice of the donut is actually cold. Keep that for yourself if you need it.” He laughed, before leaning towards her. “And what’s this about a roommate? I don’t care what Tiffany says, I’m not old enough to need a carer.”

Penny gave him a small smile and then shook her head. When she spoke, it was with a soft tone, as though she was trying to keep him calm. “No one here said you were. But he can’t stay in the hut with us, can he?”

“True. That wouldn’t be proper. You don’t have ulterior motives with them, do you, boy?” He turned his gaze on me, and I stepped back, seeing the same look in his eye that he had worn while he was on the roof.

“No, sir.” I caught Penny’s amused grin, and Poker Face helped me keep my glare away. “And I can pay for the room. I also wanted to talk to you about stabling the horses, as—”

He cut me off with a cough and a wave of his hand. “None of that. If you’ve spoken to Ted, you know we’re not doing much with Gold around here. No. If you want to pay me back, you can help with chores. The farm won’t start producing again, but I could use some help with the everyday things. You have a strong enough back, and if you don’t, I’ll work you until you do.”

“Are you sure, sir? The money isn’t a problem. Penny sprang this on you, and I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Am I sure?” His snort gave me his opinion on that. “You can take Damien’s room. He won’t be needing it. What with his new wife, and a new baby back in Crecia. Remembers to send his old man a letter or two occasionally, but I doubt he’ll come back to visit. But I’m not your maid. You clean up, cook, and look after yourself.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“And knock that off, too. I’m Mirko. You have things to move in?” He asked, leaning back into his chair as Penny strode off into the kitchen.

“No.” I shook my head, and took a seat on the small couch, trying and failing to think of him as something other than Jenkins. “When Rita hired me, circumstances demanded we leave in a hurry. All I have is what I’m wearing.”

“Damien’s stuff will be big on you, but take it if you need it.”

“How much?” I asked.

He glared at me. “You’re helping those girls, aren’t you?”

“That is my job, sir. But, I admit, I’m more comfortable with coins and contracts than barter.”

“City boys.” He laughed and shook his head. “That woman who brought in the trollop—”

“She’s not a trollop!” Penny called in from the kitchen.

Jackson grumbled under his breath before he corrected himself. “That woman who brought in Myra was the same. She wanted fancy papers for everything. Couldn’t accept help from anyone, had to bargain or pay. That’s not our way, I told her, but she wouldn’t hear it. Although she gave my darling Annabelle an entire gold coin for a shawl that she made her.”

“I found it!”

We both turned to see Penny walking in bearing a tray. When she met my eye, she grinned and added an extra swing to her hips with each step. It took effort not to roll my eyes as Jenkins admonished her. She simply laughed and placed the bottle on the table. It wasn’t open, and it looked fancy. A use of my item value identification skill told me where that gold piece for the shawl had gone.

“A northern port?” I asked.

Jackson nodded and reached for the bottle. “A trader came through not long after the fancy lady. He just happened to have things people like us couldn’t normally afford. Sold us that bottle at what he claimed was a discount.”

“Oh, you met a Gold Weasel.”

“Gold Weasel?” Penny asked, as she watched the bottle and licked her lips.

“Traders who follow around travelling nobility.” I shook my head, a tinge of disgust entering my voice. “They know the rich like to splash cash on the common folk, especially in small towns. Afterwards, they come in and scoop up the spoils with rare items they happen to be carrying with them. It’s a lucrative trade if you know what you’re doing.”

“So he scammed me?” Jenkins asked, glancing towards the bottle.

I shook my head again. “A little. It’s worth a touch under a gold, but not so much that most people would quibble about it. Plus, it’s rare enough that if you wanted to sell it you’d end up with more than a gold for it now. I know a man in Crecia who would pay a hefty price to add this to his cellar. How long have you had it?”

“Years at this point. Annabelle always said we would crack it open at the next baby shower, but…”

As he trailed off, Penny’s hand shot out to take the bottle. She waved it under his nose and gave him an impish grin.

“So you’re saying we caaaan drink it? A new business plan and roommate is basically like a baby.”

Jenkins watched the bottle, and then a small smile crossed his face. “You know, why not? I think it’ll be good to crack it open. No point in buying it if I’m not going to drink it, I suppose. Will the others be joining us?”

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“I didn’t tell them we were coming, and Sasha is canoodling with Hester somewhere. So maybe?” Penny said, and then shrugged. “Do you want to wait?”

“No, if Ted’s on the subject of Bessie, they’ll be there till sunset. Let’s have a toast to new developments.” Though he was smiling, I could tell there was something sad underneath it.

I leaned back slightly on the couch as I turned my attention to him. “Bessie?”

“His prized cow.”

“Ahh.”

The pop of a cork caught my attention, and I watched Penny pour the port into three wine glasses. How she did it intrigued me. She used two hands, one around the neck of the bottle and the other with only her pinkie finger touching the bottom. It was the way people in Peol poured when they wanted to make fun of the nobility.

“A pauper’s pour,” I said without thinking. “Really?”

Her hazel eyes met mine, and I could see a shine there. “Offended?”

“Not at all. It’s not my station that you’re mocking.”

“I have no idea what either of you are talking about,” Jenkins grumped.

“The story of The Fingerless Beggar.” Penny grinned. “It’s a morality tale most everyone in the Capital City learns as children. Though few of us take it as it’s intended.”

When Jenkins raised an eyebrow, I sighed and launched into the story. “Once upon a time, there was a man who was the third son of a nobleman.”

“Second son,” Penny interrupted. “That’s how he got invited.”

“Third son, because he wasn’t meant to be there,” I shot back.

“Children please.” Jenkins rolled his eyes. “One of you tells the story, or no more drinks for either of you.”

“Fine…” Penny pouted, but waved for me to continue.

“Thank you. Now, as I was saying. A king in centuries past invited the third son of a nobleman to dinner to meet the rest of the royal family, mostly to spite another noble family, but that wasn’t important. However, the noble son didn’t know the proper etiquette. This irritated the queen until she eventually had the guards seize him.

“Once they detained him, she explained how she liked to have her wine poured. She wanted the barest touch on the bottom of the bottle and a tight grip around the neck. Afterwards, she told him to do it. He tried, but he wasn’t very bright and messed it up. So she decided to make it easier.”

I tried some of the wine, as I took a breath, surprised how smooth it was. “That involved pulling out her personal sword and cutting his thumb off. Three more times he tried and failed, so off went more of his fingers. On the last pour, all he had left was his pinkie finger. Satisfied, she left him to eat the rest of the meal in silence.”

“And what is the morality part of this tale?” Jenkins asked, clutching his own glass with two hands.

“Oh, I know,” Penny said, bouncing in her seat. “Always carry a weapon in case someone tries to slice you up.”

My glass clinked as I put it on the table. “Always know the correct etiquette when dealing with people who hold power. A lesson I should have remembered before dealing with Ted.”

“My Annabelle would have said it was something to do with asking questions.” Jenkins mused, his eyes returning to the portrait. “Though she always had to know how things worked.”

“This port is fantastic,” I said, trying to change the subject when I heard the sorrow in his voice. “Gold Weasel or not, they didn’t sell you a fake.”

“Hmm, it is. Don’t get used to it, though. We don’t have your fancy drinks out here. Unless you want to try Ted’s swill.”

“I like his ale,” Penny piped up, placing her now empty glass on the table. “It’s fizzy.”

“It should be that’s the problem! That’s for children, not a proper adult drink!”

The couch didn’t make a noise when I leaned back and let them argue. I continued to sip at my drink, listening as the conversation changed to Jenkins speaking more about his wife, and his time tending the farm. I listened, curious, as he mentioned the fact he was an advanced farmer class with a focus on crop growth. It was a common focus, along with harvesting, and most of the farmers here had one or the other. A fact that allowed easy trade with Yuliosa for what they needed.

As he mentioned that a man named Linson owned the business that did the supply run out here, Penny’s smile widened. I didn’t understand why until he mentioned one was due to arrive soon. Poker Face activated as I got it. She was laughing about the fact we could have waited and travelled with them. A fact that would have avoided our meeting with the Timberaine Tyrant.

I shot her a dirty look, and she beamed, before asking Jackson questions about how he met his wife. It was a story filled with adventure, travel, and action. He was a farm boy seeking his fortunes, and she was a widower escaping an abusive family. The way he spoke reminded me of the bards back home, his story encapsulating the trials and victories of his life.

He had just finished telling us about how he bartered for the house we now sat in, when there was a knock at the door. Penny bolted upright and ran towards it. Jackson stretched and shook his head.

“She’s a handful that one, just you be careful.”

“Too much for me,” I said, sipping at the last bit of port in my glass. “As I’ve told her.”

“I heard that!” Penny called back, and I heard Sasha laughing as Rita sighed.

Jenkins tapped at the side of his skull. “Always remember that they have excellent hearing.”

“We do,” Penny retook her spot as she returned, and Rita joined me on the couch.

Sasha didn’t join us. Instead, she marched up to Jackson and stood in front of him. Her tail bristled, and she jabbed a finger in his direction. For his part, he looked a touch bashful.

“What’s this I hear about you staying up all night outside to look after Ted’s barn while Rita was away?” She sounded angry, and I felt Rita shift.

Jenkins coughed. “He needed help and—”

“No ands, ifs, or buts.” Sasha drew herself up to her full height. “You’re not a young man anymore, and I can’t help you the same way Anna can. Without a reliable method to get you to her, you have to be careful. I think Tiffany is right, and you should seriously think about moving in with her and the boys. Ted will be happy to have you.”

“I’m not moving from my house. This place has been my home for fifty-seven years. Besides, Penny just handed me a helper. Didn’t you?” he sounded smug as he spoke the last line.

Sasha turned on Penny, who waved, her tail moving along with her hand. “Did she now?”

“Yup. Our Money Man is moving in.”

“She’s right, I am,” I said, as she tossed a look towards me. “It makes little sense for me to sleep in the coach every night and Jenkins has clarified that staying in the hut with you would be untoward.”

“Aye,” Jenkins added.

I gave him a smile. “Plus, he has an unused stable for the horses, and I’m not far away enough not to commute. Penny’s idea has merit.”

“Fine.” Sasha scowled and pointed a finger in my direction. The stern effect diminished somewhat by the fact her hair clearly wasn’t mussed up by the walk over here. “You’re in charge of keeping him indoors and not doing anything stupid, then. No more late night guarding.”

“Well, who else is going to watch for Shifters?” Jenkins argued, as he gripped the arms rests of his chair and leaned forward. “I know what I’ve seen.”

Rita shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Mirko. We’ve talked about this…”

“Listen, girl, I knew your father. Don’t take that tone with me.”

“I’m not taking any tone with you. But Shifters aren’t real. We know what took the cow,” she said, her tone gentle.

“Oh, and what was it?” Jenkins demanded. “A giant horned owl?”

Rita shook her head. “No. A Varglatog.”

Everyone reacted to that, and I glanced at my empty glass and the bottle before pouring myself another drink. I made sure to do it the nobles way, with a light grip around the bottom using all five fingers and a firm grip. Penny stuck out her tongue at me, which got an odd look from Sasha, but I ignored both of them.

Only once I had taken a sip did I ask the question I knew I was going to regret. “What’s a Varglatog?”

“Do you know what a wolf is?” Penny asked. “Also a bat?”

“Of course,” I nodded.

“That.”

I looked at Rita. “It’s a wolf bat?”

“A Wolf with bat wings and about the size of a horse,” she confirmed and I could hear the excitement in her voice as she spoke.

“How would it have gotten through the barn wall?” Jenkins asked, and he sounded unconvinced. “It shouldn’t be strong enough.”

Rita’s tail was flicking excitedly and I could tell how much she wanted to stand up. “It would be if it dive bombed it from high enough. Plus, we found bits of fur and other things around the property.”

“Must be desperate for food, then. We haven’t had one of those try anything with the farms in a year or more,” Jenkins said.

“Three years,” Penny added.

“Pfft, about the same when you get to my age.”

“Are we going to trap it like in Ophilim?” I asked Rita, who shook her head.

“Not at all,” she said. “This will be straightforward. We track it to its lair and then take it out. If it’s desperate enough to be attacking buildings for livestock, it’ll come after people next. Ted was right to be worried.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it when you get back,” I said, taking another drink.

She laughed. “No, you’re coming with us.”

“Why?” I looked at her. “It doesn’t seem like I would be much help.”

“Because you have a contractual obligation to come on a set amount of missions. Besides, this will be a good chance for you to understand what we can do. I also need someone to monitor Sasha, and your weapon will be powerful enough to deal with it.”

“I don’t need to be looked after,” Sasha growled.

Rita ignored her. “So you’re coming.”

“Be a man,” Jenkins added. “Don’t let the girls go alone. Or you can stay here and clean the house for me. I’m sure there’s a dustpan and brush somewhere.”

From the way he glared at me as he spoke, it was clear if I stayed, he would not make things easy on me. Practice kept the sigh hidden.

“May I at least stable and check over the horses before we depart? Or are we taking the coach?”

“We’re not.” Rita shook her head. “It’ll be local. They’re big, but they wouldn’t want to carry an entire cow particularly far.”

She got to her feet and turned to the door. “But don’t dawdle, we have a hunt on her hands.”

Under the sound of Penny’s shout, I sighed and downed the rest of my drink. That done, I thanked Jenkins and then left to deal with the horses before I prepared for my second monster hunt this year.