Chapter Eleven: Wherein we start to get down to the truth of things.

We rode in silence for most of the morning. I don’t know precisely what the orphan was thinking, but I was thinking on him, or rather her. I am well aware that one is just as likely to come upon a female orphan as a male one, but the more I thought on it, the more I realized that if my young friend had lied about being a boy, then it was just as likely that she had lied about being an orphan.

It was just about time for elevenses when I spied two snowshoe hares sitting beside the road munching on a few sprigs of green which poked out of the snow.

“Hop down,” I told the orphan.

“Why?”

“I want you to get a rock and bean one of those hares,” said I. “If you can kill it, we can eat.”

“I don’t know that I can hit it.”

“It can’t be more than thirty feet away. Any boy could hit it with a rock from this distance.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on boy.”

The child slid to the ground and then picked up a likely looking stone from a small pile not too far from her feet and hefting it back, launched it in the general direction of the hares. She didn’t have much heft, and with the lob she put on the rock, if it had hit the hare, it would have done nothing more than make it angry. Of course there was no chance of that, since the course of the missile was off to the right by a good thirty degrees. The hares started and took off over the snow, disappearing among the trees.

I dropped down to the ground and pointed my finger accusingly. With my finger pointed and my back stiff, I cut an intimidating figure. One can often get what one wants simply by being intimidating. I know of a few warriors, warriors of great renown mind you, who in truth had never done much warrioring at all. They simply struck an intimidating pose when the time was ripe and their reputations were made. Now that I think about it, I quite possibly could have avoided fighting the goblins the previous night, by just striking my intimidating pose, finger out and back straight. I mean of course, the first goblins, the ones on the road, as the second group of goblins, the ones in the cabin, were in quite a rush to get out the door and had I simply stood in an intimidating pose, they quite probably would have run me over.

“What are you doing now?” asked the orphan.

“I am thinking about intimidating poses.”

“Well, you certainly have managed an intimidating pose there.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of work into it.”

“Well it shows.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to have one’s work appreciated.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And don’t change the subject,” said I.

“And just what subject was that?”

“You are a girl.”

“Um, no.”

“Um yes. And not only that, you are an elfish girl.”

“An elven girl.”

“So you admit it.”

“Um, no.”

“Um yes. I saw you without your cap.”

“Oh.”

“Besides,” said I. “You throw like a girl.”

“Well what do you expect?” the girl asked. “I’ve never thrown a rock before.”

“Oh-ho!”

“Oh-ho yourself,” said she. “Alright I’m a girl. That doesn’t change anything. I still need your help to get home.”

“It changes quite a bit,” I said accusingly. “For one thing, you are a liar. You told me that you were a boy. If you lied about that, what else have you lied about?”

“I never actually said I was a boy.”

“You most certainly did. I said ‘I see that you are a sturdy boy, despite your condition…’ and you said ‘Yes, I am a sturdy boy…”

“Who would have guessed that you had such a perfect memory?” grumbled the child, folding her arms over her chest.

“So,” I said, again striking my intimidating pose. “What else have you lied about? I will wager your name is not really Orphan.”

“I never said my name was Orphan, you bloody great buffoon! I said my name was Galfrid. You just keep calling me orphan.”

“Is your name Galfrid?”

“No.”

“You see? Liar!”

“It wasn’t a lie. It was a disguise.”

“You were disguised as an orphan named Galfrid?”

“Yes.”

“Are you an orphan then?”

“Not really.”

“Liar!”

“I’m more of an orphan that you are,” she said sullenly.

“How can you be more of an orphan than I am?” I asked.

“Why couldn’t I be,” said she. “If anyone could be, I could be.”

“I mean, what makes you more of an orphan than me.”

“My mother died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I was taken aback. “My condolences on your loss.”

“That’s all right. It happened a long time ago.”

“How long ago?” I wondered.

The girl looked up into the sky as she counted the years in her head.

“Sixty five years ago.”

“Sixty five years! How old are you?”

“Seventy nine.”

“An old woman and only half an orphan,” said I.

“Hold on now,” said she. “The natural life of an elf is close enough to a thousand years as not to matter. I’m only seventy nine. I’m scarce out of puberty.”

“So not-Galfrid, what is your story?”

“I don’t think I want to tell you,” said she. “You won’t believe me anyway. You think I’m a liar, so why bother explaining.”

“I don’t think you are a liar,” I replied. “I know you are one. And now that I think about it, maybe I don’t care to hear your story. Maybe you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Really? What about Eaglethump Boxcrate, friend to those who are need of a friend and a protector to those who are in need of a protector and a guardian to those who are in need of a guardian?”

She had me there. It is well known that Eaglethump… Eaglethorpe Buxton is a friend to the friendless and all those other things. So I had little choice but to help the old lady out.

“Well,” I took a deep breath. “What is your name?”

“Princess Jholeira.”

Chapter Ten: Wherein I discover the true nature of my companion.

I never did find out what the man who owned that cabin did for a living. I didn’t examine his body closely enough to see if he was old enough to have retired from somewhere else to settle in the country. I didn’t see if he had any outbuildings where he could have carried on a trade. I don’t know if he was a good man or a bad one. And to tell the truth, I didn’t notice much about him physically. I do know this… he had a very fine bed. It had been nearly three weeks since I had slept in a bed and this one was at least as good as that one had been. Before you ask, the other one was in the second floor of an in an inn called the Lonesome Hedgehog, where incidentally a nice, plump serving wench with the top two buttons of her blouse undone had brought me a very nice mutton stew. No pie though.

What with all the adventures that had come upon me of late, and what with not having slept on a bed in a fortnight and a half, as you can imagine, it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I had brushed down my noble steed, which is to say Hysteria. Then I had taken off my boots and wiggled my toes. Then I put my knife under my pillow. When my head touched lightly on the pillow, I was dreaming. I don’t remember exactly what I dreamed about. Only that it had something to do with my cousin Gervil, and that for some reason he was chopping onions. I never found out why he was chopping onions because I was awakened by the sound of the cabin door opening.

I didn’t stir. I kept my eyes squinted so that they looked shut to someone looking at me, but I could still see. At the same time I slid my hand under my pillow to take hold of my knife. I needn’t have worried though, as it was the orphan returning from outside and bolting the door after him. I suppose that he had stepped out to answer nature’s call. I started to return to slumber when something about the orphan stopped me.

I continued to watch him as there was something different about him. It took me several moments to realize what it was, but then it hit me. I was seeing my companion for the first time without his cap. Where before his head had been covered by a ratty wool creation, it was now covered by long, golden locks, held down with braided strands around the temples. And on either side of his head was a long slender pointed ear, pierced three or four times by thick silver rings. He was a girl! He was a girl and he was an elf! This was quite a strange development and I didn’t know what to do about it, so I did nothing. I simply went back to sleep.

The next morning the orphan was waiting for me when I woke. His long golden hair and his long pointed ears were now carefully tucked under the cap. I suppose at this point in my story, I should probably begin calling the orphan she instead of he. Truth be known, I still think of her sometimes as a boy. It just goes to show that my poor old mother was right. First impressions are important.

“It’s about time you woke,” said she.

“Did I have some specific reason to rise early?” I wondered. “Do I have an appointment at the apothecary? Is the Queen of Aerithraine, with whom I once had the pleasure of spending a fortnight, waiting to give me an audience?”

“No need for sarcasm,” said she. “I merely point out that the sun has been up for some time. I’ve gone through the larder of the poor human… I mean the poor man who lived here and found some food not spoiled by goblins. We have a jar of crabapples, a jar of pickles, and a few bits of dried meat. There are also bags of coffee, flour, and dried beans that you can take with you.”

“Why didn’t you whip up a pot of coffee for us?” I asked. “Especially as you are so concerned about the hour. It would have woken me up earlier.”

“Um, I don’t know how to make coffee.”

“Really? Oh well.”

We ate our bit of dried meat and crabapples for breakfast and saved the pickles for later. I put them, along with the coffee, flour, and dried beans in my pack, then loaded the pack and the saddle onto Hysteria. And though she and I were both loath to leave the relative warmth of the cabin to return to the snowy outside, we did. The frosty overnight weather had frozen the bodies of human and goblin alike to the ground, so that I would have had to wait until they thawed a bit before I could give them a proper burial, even if I had been so inclined. I wasn’t. So, hoisting the orphan back up behind me, which is to say, upon Hysteria’s haunches, we started off again down the road.