Chapter 5: Part 5

Gardening was hard work. Especially when done for the sake of growing an actually significant amount of your own food. It had taken me days to prepare all the soil and get the seeds set up. It was going better than I’d expected, at least. 

I did, however, realise that it was taking up all my time and I was getting rather distracted from the goal of making enough money to buy a ticket out of this backwater. A good week in, I headed towards town looking to find some cash.

I sat down in the main square, watching people pass by, wondering about my usual funding acquisition style. Unfortunately the whole valley had a population of… maybe three thousand people? If I went around pulling scams everyone would know about me in no time. This wasn’t like Dha’vin, with its tens of thousands of inhabitants and constant stream of visitors from other elven realms.

Pickpocketing might work, but people here were also mostly poor. Farmers on cold rocky lands. A lost coin purse would hurt them more than an elven trader. And would net me a lot less.

It was beginning to look like I might need to find actual honest work. A thought that sent a shiver down my spine. Goldfellows did not do honest work. Mum was a scammer. Grandpa was a pickpocket. Great grandma cracked safes as a bankrobber. Great great grandpa… um… Mum had told me what he did once, but I didn’t remember it off the top of my head.

Either way, the point stood. I had a family tradition to maintain. 

I just had to figure out what sort of sustainable criminal activity I could do in a small town like this. 

Or, well, I knew a bit of juggling. Panhandling without any sort of licence was generally mildly criminal. I supposed that could work. For now.

I got up, and began looking around, curious where I might find some balls for juggling. Since I was a little out of practice. Obviously I’d go back to knives again once I was back in the groove. The danger impressed people and led to better tips.

“Are you looking for something?” Kessica’s cheerful voice asked as I studied yet another store window.

“Balls,” I replied. “For juggling.”

“Ah. Sben’s toy shop might be where you want to go,” Kessica said, pointing towards another street. “It’s just over this way.”

“Thanks,” I said as I followed her down what was, on second thought, more of an alleyway.

“What will you be doing with them?” she asked. “I… well, obviously you’ll be juggling, but, why?”

“Cash. I need to earn my own keep,” I replied. “I feel bad mooching off of the—off Grolog and his daughters… do they have a family name?”

“No, no. Orcs are mostly either matronymic or patronymic… I think that’s the words for it? They choose whichever parent they think is better known. So, Eka is Eka Grologter. Grolog is Grolog Grugson.”

I nodded. Elves were similar. Unlike humans and dwarves. I supposed I could just say ‘Grolog’s family’, since he was the head?

Either way, the more pressing issue was looking through the toy store. There were a few balls to see, but most were plain wood spheres. 

Then again, I didn’t have much money. Plain was probably the best starting point.

“How can I help you ladies?” a rough voice asked in a soft tone.

Turning, I saw a dwarf just barely peeking over the counter. 

“Would it be possible to purchase a few wooden balls?” I asked. 

“Should be enough of them out, yes?” the dwarven man (probably Sben?) replied.

“… could I buy them with an IOU? I’ll happily pay you 50% more than the asking price if you give me a few days?” I asked.

The dwarf raised an eyebrow. I hoped he was the type to follow the typical dwarven financial plans, ready to invest now for a bigger reward tomorrow. Smarts and patience being valued in Dwarven society and all that.

“I’d like some sort of money up front,” he replied after thinking it over.

“She’s in a bit of a hard situation,” Kessica said. “Her mother shipped her up here under false pretenses without any money to her name. She’s staying with Grolog’s family.”

“Oh? You’re part of Grolog’s family?” he asked.

“Er, not technically,” I replied.

“She’s part of his household, though,” Kessica added.

I gave a nod to that.

“Grolog is an honourable man. I’ll put it on his tab if you don’t pay,” the dwarven man said.

“I’ll pay, I’ll pay. He won’t need to know,” I replied.

He looked only mildly convinced as he let me take the three spheres of carved wood. I carried them out to the main square, and began to hunt for a good spot to put on a show. There was an area near the back of the statue of some human on a horse that was pretty visible, and I decided to go for that. 

Kessica stood to watch as I started, which was good. The first audience member was the hardest one to get, after all. I then began to juggle, singing a bouncy song my mum had taught me to help me keep a beat. Soon enough there were a few kids watching as well, and I decided to start playing with the pattern. Throwing the balls higher. Speeding up or slowing down. Enough to show off a little. The small empty coin purse I’d put on the ground had a few bits of small change tossed in. Cut silver or copper coins mostly, but better than nothing. 

I decided to finish my performance with a flourish and a bow, getting a few cheers. Counting the earnings up I saw that I’d made back about half of what the balls had cost. Since I had food provided by Grolog I decided to head back to Sben’s and hand over everything as the first part of the payment.

The dwarven man counted it all, pulling out scales to check the true total of the cut coins, before agreeing it was just short of half. 

It was a bit depressing to stick a once more empty coin purse back in the small bag I had for carrying things, but… I’d be making money soon enough. Probably. Assuming I didn’t burn through everyone in town’s pocket change in a few days.

With that in mind, I decided to look for Kessica, wondering if she knew about the schedule of local festivals and the like. Those would probably be good for scheduling trips into town.

Before I could find her again, however, I found myself scooped into the air by two large green hands. 

“We got your clothes in. It’s practice time,” Eka said as she shifted me into an over-the-shoulder carry, my face pointing backwards as she carried me out of town.

“I can walk, you know,” I grumbled, trying not to feel too flustered and instead focus on the indignity of it.

“My legs are longer. We’ll get home quicker this way,” she replied, sounding more than a little amused by my protests.

It seemed like further protests would fall on deaf ears, so I shifted to pouting quietly. And trying to ignore the rhythmic bouncing that came with being carried, or the feeling of Eka’s strong muscles around me. Because if I didn’t, well then the results would be embarrassing… and… um, there was another reason for trying to avoid that? It was slipping my mind at the moment, then again, so were most things other than thoughts of Eka’s muscles.

I needed to focus on the most boring thing possible. Which was, of course, the classic Elven sport of moon ball. Especially if I thought about how often I ended up in a sand trap trying to send the return shot. Or the sleepless nights that came with being dragged into a game. 

Yep, mildly traumatic memories of school sport field trips were indeed doing a good job of distracting me from the strong orcish woman carrying—nope, I was thinking about her again.

Oh, but we were home. Good. That would hopefully mean she was going to let me down. When that didn’t seem to be happening, I decided to squirm a bit, until I made her drop me. 

I barely landed on my feet, still not used to moving in a long dress like this. 

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“Well, someone’s feeling energetic,” Eka said with a grin. “Your new clothes are up in your room. Go change and we’ll run you through some drills.”

I made a few grumbling noises as I headed into the house. I had to admit that getting to see the new dress was at least mildly exciting. Ok, quite exciting. I hadn’t had a tailored dress before. 

Getting to my bedroom, I held it in front of me and spun about a few times. It wasn’t made of the same materials of an elven dress, but it was still quite lovely. I was left feeling so very lucky that I was—pretending to be a girl.

How did I forget that part of it again?

I stared down at the dress, and found myself wondering if there was a way to make it not pretend. So that I wouldn’t have to deal with the wave of guilt hitting me right now. But, even if I used the magic Tua’rin mentioned… I’d just be taking pretending to the next level, wouldn’t I? 

I put the dress back down on the bed, and changed into the short kilt-like skirt and shirt instead, trying to ignore the feelings of guilt and sadness swirling in my gut. 

Dressed, I trudged my way downstairs, past a confused looking Zago and out to the training grounds where Eka was waiting.

She raised an eyebrow as she saw me coming. I supposed my bad mood was obvious, but I didn’t feel like changing it.

“I know they’re not elven silk like you wanted, but… I think that outfit looks quite cute on you,” she said. 

I grumbled a reply, not really feeling it at the moment.

“Do you really dislike them that much?” she asked, now sounding concerned.

“It’s… they’re fine,” I mumbled. “I just—I thought about something else. It ruined my mood.”

“Oh… sorry,” Eka said.

The kindness in her tone did leave me feeling a little guilty, and I offered the best apology I could while still in a funk. Which was probably a… mediocre apology, at best?

She seemed to accept it, though, and handed me my training sword. Then it was time to dodge and swerve for my life as Eka seemed ready to murder me with her training warhammer again. At least the fear replaced my emotional rut as I focused on staying alive. And free of broken bones.

The new shorter skirt was easier to move around in, so avoiding her attacks went much better. Though it seemed to still annoy her.

“Are you ever going to counter?” she asked, as both of us were huffing to catch our breath.

“If I get any closer to you… you’ll take my head off!” I replied between breaths. “I’m staying safe over here.”

“In a real fight you need to attack at some point,” she said, sounding annoyed.

“Elven melee strategies are about being a distraction until the archers can pick off your enemies,” I explained.

She blinked, before giving a nod. “Alright. Let’s see your archery skills, then.”

“Woah, wait,” I said as she turned and headed over to the shed again. “I was trained in swordsmanship because I’m a kind of rotten archer.”

“Oh?” she asked, while pulling out a bow with thick enough string I was pretty sure it belonged on a dwarven crossbow, not a longbow.

“I was always at the bottom of my class,” I muttered, but we kept walking.

It didn’t take long to find a target on a tree nearby. The large size of it left me wondering if it was Zago’s. When we stopped a short distance from it, I found myself looking around, trying to find the adult sized target. 

“Everything ok?” Eka asked.

“Yes… I was just wondering where my target was?” I replied.

“Uh… right there?” she said, pointing at the one barely more than fifty paces away.

I supposed I may have undersold my abilities a little, but I felt like this was a bit of an insult to my skill. I snatched the bow and quiver from Eka, a bit annoyed. It was a quick matter of getting things in place, and drawing the bow. It was… heavier than an elven one, so it was a bit more of a workout to draw it properly, but I was running on enough spite to ignore that. 

Instead, I focused on the target and let the arrows fly. One. Two… Five… Eight… Twelve. 

I had to catch my breath and roll my shoulders after I’d finished, and tried not to look at the results too much. I really was out of practice…

“You… you actually fully drew the bow every time,” Eka said, her voice soft.

“Erh, yeah? I mean, it’s heavier than an elven bow, but I could…” my voice trailed off as I wondered if that would be read as a sign of my masculinity. Guys tended to have greater arm strength, no?

“Huh, I guess elves are stronger than humans… even if they’re twigs,” Eka muttered, letting me breathe a sigh of relief. “The accuracy I expected, but I didn’t think you would get the full draw.”

I blinked. “Accuracy? I… even this close with a big child’s target I barely got half the arrows in the bull’s eye area?”

Eka stared at me.

I didn’t know what to do besides stare back.

“…how far do elves usually shoot from?” she asked.

“A hundred paces?”

“At smaller targets?” 

“Yes? Maybe about 2/3rds the size?” I replied.

“And you can hit those?” she asked.

“Yes?”

She gave a nod. “Alright. Archery will be your main focus for town defense, then. We’ll still do some melee training, but we’ll get you your own bow once you get on the militia payroll.”

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Sorry this one took so long, had to work on something with a time limit and then had a bit of writer’s block for this story. If the wait has you feeling extra impatient to read more, though, you can always sign up to my patreon to get the next chapter right away. ✨

(I always give patrons at least a one chapter buffer.)

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