Chapter 8
(Cinnamon Custard Iced Coffee)
I rushed downstairs like it was Christmas morning. I couldn’t wait to check on my grains and see if they’d made any progress in sprouting. After all, they were the key to my success here, and I’d never gotten to brew like this back in Portland.
Just as I imagined, my malt was coming along nicely. I smiled down at the large pot before stretching and cracking my back.
“Good morning, Hagop,” I yawned to myself as the rooster continued to crow somewhere in the yard.
I was feeling pretty swell about my life when it crossed my mind that I actually didn’t know how to contact Babble or where to even find him. Everything had happened so quickly that I hadn’t considered some of the technical difficulties I’d face, like the fact that I couldn’t just text people.
But as I ventured out of the barn, I kind of didn’t care. It was a beautiful day in a beautiful land, and I just had the feeling that things were going my way. It might’ve been the totally unpolluted sunshine or the sight of my fresh grain beginning to sprout, but I knew that I would find the little guy somehow.
I knew that the first place to look would be the bar, so I swung open the doors and ventured inside.
Just like the day before, the entire place smelled of peppermint. Even though I knew there had been a hefty amount of drinking and debauchery the night before, the bar was gleaming like it’d just been cleaned. I scanned the room to see if Babble was still inside by any chance.
I wandered over to a table of sleepy dwarves that Hildegard hadn’t been able to kick out by closing time the night before. And sure enough, in one of the dark wood booths, there was a tiny gnome curled up snoring.
And not just any gnome. It was my gnome.
“Babble,” I whispered, and I poked at the tiny figure.
He mumbled something to himself and curled into an even tighter ball on the small dark wooden bench. But it was already morning, and whether he liked it or not, duty called.
“Babble!” I repeated in the loudest whisper that I could utter without waking up the dwarves around him, and I shook the small being.
At first, one eye opened, and then the other. He blinked a few times before turning his gaze to me and scowling.
“What time is it?” he hiccupped, and I was glad that my employer was still alive and grumbling.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The rooster just crowed so the sun just rose. Does that make sense?”
“I’m a gnome, not a chicken,” he growled before shutting his eyes and laying his head on the bench again. “Fetch me in an hour.”
I shrugged to myself and looked around again. At least I knew where my accomplice would be for the next hour, so if anything came up I’d be able to find him. But for now, I had the morning to myself, so I walked through the front door and soaked up the early morning air of Hagop.
The river glistened in the sunlight, the cobblestones were still damp with dew, and a few stray leaves rolled along the road with a gentle breeze. There were a few fishermen setting up their boats, but other than that, the town was totally empty.
Man. What good deed had I done to land somewhere as amazing as Hagop? It was the most beautiful place I’d ever been, and I decided it was time to poke around on my own. So I walked along the riverside for a while, and then I crossed a bridge near the edge of town. I walked back along the other bank, and by the time I reached the town again, the shopkeepers were setting up and fruit-sellers were building their stalls.
I stopped to investigate some of the wares, though I decided I would wait to eat until I was back at Hildegard’s. But it gave me some ideas on flavors I could add to my beer, so I decided I could consider it a successful business trip.
By the time I returned to the bar, I was fully awake and revving to go. I didn’t want to waste another minute, and I slammed the door open and let all the light in. But it looked like I was alone in the bar, so I laughed and held my arms out wide as I turned to face the city again.
“Gooooooood morning, Hagop!” I declared like I was Robin Williams.
“Good morning, Tyler,” Hildegard shot back. “Though I can’t speak for all of Hagop, unfortunately.”
I turned around and saw that the innkeeper had emerged from the back room. I smiled as I saw that she had pulled her hair into a low bun again and wore the same burgundy dress with puffy sleeves. It just felt right on such a fine day.
“Well, then, good morning to you,” I replied as I walked over to the bar and smiled. “Can I call you Hilly now that you’ll sell my beer?”
“Oh, what nonsense,” she laughed. “My job is to sell the beer of the finest brewer, not just any ambitious man who stumbles into my inn. And you haven’t even spent a single week in this town! You can call me Hilly when you’ve proven you really are the best.”
The innkeeper blushed and swabbed the bar with some more peppermint liquid. She refused to meet my eye as she scrubbed the wood, though she didn’t seem upset that I was hanging out in her bar so early.
Still, I didn’t want to disturb her too much in case I ended up on her bad side, so I went back to Babble and decided to get him up for good.
“Come on,” I said as I shook the gnome. “It’s been an hour. It’s time to work.”
The gnome sat up reluctantly, took his hat off, and slapped his face a few times with it. I was shocked to see that there was a mop of black and gray hair on his head, but he looked up at me as he leaned across the table.
“So soon?” he grumbled and then yawned. “My, my, my, you are a great protector. I’ll accomplish big things with you on my arm.”
Babble stumbled off of the bench, righted himself before he could face plant onto the floor, and finally brushed himself off.
“Any winnings last night?” I asked.
“There’s always winnings,” he said before unleashing a disproportionately large burp. “And that means there’s always a schedule for collecting. If they don’t come to me and pay up when due, I go to collect. If they try to fight me over it, that’s where you come in.”
“Good to know,” I replied, even though I couldn’t imagine what three more weeks in Hagop would look like. “Now, we have to get to the bakery by noon.”
“It’s eight,” Hilly shouted from the other side of the bar without looking up at us. “If you were wondering.”
“So early,” Babble said and slapped himself a few more times on the face with his hat.
“It’s not that early,” Hildegard replied.
“It’s early,” the gnome insisted as climbed up to the bar.
“Thank you, Hildegard,” I said. “At least I appreciate knowing what time it is.”
The gnome belched again, and this time, one of the elves opened his eye and scowled at us.
“Shut up,” he growled.
“Go home, Javice,” Hildegard groaned. “Your bed is more comfortable than my table!”
“It’s certainly quieter,” the elf said as he pushed himself upright. “Come on, gentlemen, we should seek better company until the evening crowd returns.”
The elf poked at his friends, and they growled and grumbled, but eventually, the small band of elves dragged themselves into the light of day.
“Those silly creatures never leave me alone,” she muttered. “That’s the second time that’s happened this week.“I hope that I haven’t bothered you too much, Hildegard,” Babble said with a deep bow. “If you’d like, I’l never sleep over again.”
“Oh, you don’t bother me Babble,” Hildegard smiled. “You’re just fine. But those elves always drink too much wine and overstay their welcome.”
“At least they’re paying customers,” I shrugged. “So, we have to wait a few hours to get Flora from the bakery.”
“And why is that?” Hildegard asked.
“Oh,” I said. “Didn’t we tell you? Flora is going to help us get the hops we need. I don’t know about you, Babble, but I’m pretty damn excited.”
“Really?” Hildegard said and stopped her cleaning to stare at me suspiciously. “Aren’t the hops reserved by all of the dwarf houses, months in advance? Does she have some secret source for hops?”
“Oh, of course not,” I laughed. “Flora knows one of the farmers, though, and she’s going to convince him to share some with us.”
Hildegard stared at me for another heartbeat, and then she went back to cleaning the bar again.
“Well, isn’t that something,” she said. “Good for you. Did those tools I gave you for the steeping work?”
“Oh, they worked perfectly,” I nodded. “Those grains are beginning to sprout now.”
“Miss Hildegard,” Babble said, and he released a loud burp as he leaned over the bar. “I have a favor to ask of you. It’s to do with the beer brewing.”
“Well, it seems as if we’re all part of this operation now,” she said, and she tapped her foot on the ground. “What is it, Babble?”
“I was wondering if you would be so very kind as to lend us your cart and donkey,” the gnome said, and he took off his hat and fanned his red face. I could see that he had the hangover sweats, and I tried to stifle a grin.
“My cart and donkey?” Hildegard asked. “Well, if you must. I don’t need it today, and I don’t think that we’re due any deliveries.”
“That would be very convenient,” I nodded. “You see, we didn’t have one yesterday, but luckily, we were able to hitch a ride back.”
“Yes,” Babble said, and he let out a proud laugh. “I know all the right people in Hagop.”
“Well, you certainly know a lot of them,” Hildegard said as she lifted an eyebrow. “Anyway, I suggest you two take a walk while I’m preparing the bar for yet another day. I have a lot of work to do around here, and I’m interviewing a few more dwarves for the cooking position.”
“Understood,” I said and nodded at the bar mistress.
“Exercise?” Babble grumbled as he placed his cap back on his head. “At this hour?”
“Unless you want to listen to the dwarves brag about their culinary skills,” Hildegard replied.
“Nope, never,” the gnome said as he scrambled down from his bar stool.
Babble and I stepped outside and found that the town was coming to life. People were moving along the streets, and the first of the carts were making their deliveries.
“Where to now?” Babble yawned as we stepped into the bright Hagop sunlight.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Show me something new.”
The tiny gnome and I spent a good few hours exploring two of the places of worship in town. They were both made out of stone and so were very cool inside, and even though they weren’t as ornate as some of the churches I’d seen before, I felt a nice sense of safety in them. We grabbed some bread and jam and a custard coffee from one of the street vendors before heading back to Hildegard’s to pick up the cart.
“This is fucking amazing,” I said through a few sips of the custard coffee. “Oh, my God, Babble… I’ve never tasted anything like this.”
All of the caramel-iced-fratty-vanilla-pumpkin bullshit absolutely paled in comparison to what I was tasting right now. It was a normal black coffee loaded up with what appeared to be a kind of condensed milk mixed in with a cinnamon stick. I’d never experienced anything like it, and I felt like it was the perfect drink to compliment the summer fading into fall.
“They don’t have this back in Portland?” the gnome asked in surprise.
I thought back to all the gross syrupy coffee amalgamations that they came up with in all the chain stores, and I shuddered as I thought about how bad the flavors could get.
“Nothing this good,” I told him. “Nope… you guys might be lagging behind in beer, but you’re definitely not lagging behind in baked goods or coffee.”
“Oh, well, that’s good to hear!” a familiar voice said, and I spun around to find that Flora was right behind us.
Her blonde hair hung in two braids on either side of her head, and the tips curled up at the bottom. She had fastened the braids with small pink ribbons that matched the perfect cherry blush of her cheeks, and all I could think of was that she looked like a beer girl from Oktoberfest.
“Flora!” Babble shouted when he noticed that I was struggling to stutter a response. “I thought that we were going to pick you up!”
“We ran out of stock early,” the baker woman said and shrugged. “There were a lot of travelers from the West Country, and they bought almost our entire stock for their journey.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I said and then slurped down the last of my coffee. “Well, I have good news for you. Hildegard said that we can borrow her donkey and cart to bring the hops back.”
“Oh, that’s great news,” she said. “Yes, very great news… well, why don’t we go now? I brought some pretzels for the journey, too!”
She pointed down at the contents of the basket that was hanging from her arm and smiled. This was definitely feeling like the world’s biggest beer garden, but I wasn’t complaining.
“To the hops!” Babble laughed.
We made our way back to the inn, though rather than going through the bar, Babble led us around the building to the barn in back.
“I don’t feel like dealing with any dwarves unless we have to,” he murmured.
“But shouldn’t we tell Hildegard--” I started to ask.
“She’ll figure it out,” the gnome replied.
It turned out that Hildegard had left the donkey and cart in a small fenced-in area near the barn. There was a halter hanging from a nail on one of the posts, and after looking at both Flora and Babble, I finally picked up the halter and stepped into the corral.
“There’s a good boy,” I said as I tried and failed to put halter over his head.
“You’ve never done that before,” Flora stated. “Let me show you.”
Flora deftly haltered and harnessed the donkey with practiced ease, and made sure I saw it so I could do it on my own next time.
“Such a good boy,” I said after we accomplished the feat.
“Her name is Tulip,” Hildegard laughed as she stepped out of the inn. “And she’s a great little donkey. I love her dearly, so make sure you keep her safe. And if you happen to see some nice grass or clover, be sure to stop and let her graze.”
“We’ll be happy to do that,” Flora replied as she gave the donkey a nice big scratch behind the ears.
I led Tulip to the cart, and Hildegard helped fasten her into place. When the donkey was secure, the innkeeper gave her a kiss on the cheek and then looked up at me.
“I won’t bother wishing you good luck,” she said. “I’m not trying to be pessimistic. I just know how the dwarves are about their hops. It’s cutthroat out there.”
“That’s why I’m involved,” Flora nodded. “I know quite a few of the farmers now, and I think that I can put in a good word.”
“Well, for the sake of the best new brewer in town, let’s hope so,” Hildegard said. “By the way Tyler, have you ever driven a cart before?”
“Not even once,” I admitted. “But I can drive a car.”
“A what?” Flora asked as Babble lifted an eyebrow.
“Umm, never mind…” I said. “It doesn’t involve horses or donkeys anyway.”
“So that’s a no,” Hildegard said.
“Don’t worry,” Flora laughed. “I drive a cart every morning. I can show you the ropes, Tyler. Or at least, the reins… it’s pretty easy. I’m sure you’ll have the hang of it before the day is over.”
“Just don’t push her too hard,” Hildegard said as she patted the donkey.
“We’ll take good care of her,” Babble replied. “Giant, give me a boost into the back.”
“Yes, boss,” I laughed as I helped the gnome scramble into the back of the cart.
I joined the gnome while Flora took the bench seat at the front. I watched as she checked that Tulip was secure and then slapped the reins to get the donkey’s attention.
The little donkey’s face perked up, and she started to make a few jaunty steps forward. Babble and I waved at Hildegard, and the bar mistress went back inside her inn.
“What a beautiful day,” Babble sighed, and he popped a piece of straw in his mouth and stared up at the sky. “It feels like every day in Hagop is a beautiful day.”
“That’s just because of the time of year,” Flora laughed. “You’re forgetting the rainy season at the end of the colder months. Though mud season would be more like it. Tyler, if you stay with us for that long, you’ll have to walk through a whole lot of mud in the moon cycle after the snow melts.”
“Oh, I think I can live with that,” I said as I looked around. “Portland is always wet and muddy.”
Even if I hated mud and dampness, though, it wasn’t like I had much choice. I still had no idea how I’d ended up in Hagop, and as far as I could tell, there was no way back. Whatever black hole I’d fallen through seemed to have vanished.
I mean, I could always try and recreate my arrival in Hagop by jumping into a massive vat of beer again. But what if that didn’t work? Or what if it worked, but it took me some place I really didn’t want to be? At least I liked Hagop.
“Come on, Tulip!” Flora sang as we trotted along the bustling streets.
The sun still hadn’t reached its peak, so we weren’t sweltering yet. I decided to enjoy the ride, like Babble, and I leaned back against the cart and watched the city pass by.
“How far is the journey?” I finally asked.
“Oh, it shouldn’t be too long at all,” Flora assured me. “I make this journey once a week to visit a neighboring farm. There’s an old lady who lives there, and I make her deliveries because she can’t come into town.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I replied.
It reminded me of the Meals on Wheels program that I’d joined in high school. It was nice to know that despite their obvious penchant for public hangings, there was also a charitable side of town.
“I know that I’ll get the same help when I’m older,” Flora shrugged. “It’s how we treat the elders in Hagop. They’re a very valuable part of our society.”
“Well, that’s good to hear,” I said. “I was a little worried that you guys were kind of… on the barbaric side after I found out about terrible trouble.”
“Who’s in terrible trouble?” Babble asked and shot up.
“Nobody,” I laughed. “Nobody is, I just mentioned it…”
“Well, don’t speak of such things!” Babble told me. “Us gnomes have always thought that it’s bad luck to say the words out loud unless it’s completely necessary.”
“That’s because you’re good at attracting it,” Flora laughed. “Not you personally, Babble. But you know what I mean. The gnomes don’t exactly have the best reputation with the law keepers in our city…”
“And it’s a well-earned reputation, unfortunately,” Babble sighed. “We can be quite troublesome.”
A few people waved at us as the streets filled up with more carts and more buyers, but soon enough, I started to see a few chickens pecking around the cobbled roads and knew that soon we would be hitting the countryside. I was used to seeing birds like pigeons in a city center, but never actual chickens.
“Ah, there’s the Rover Mill,” Flora said as we passed the big mill where we’d procured the grains from the day before.
“Uh-huh,” I nodded. “Already crossed that one off my list. They’re already sprouting in the bottom of the stable, as you saw yesterday…”
“Oh, yes, that,” Flora said as she blushed. “I hope you don’t think that’s something I normally do. But… there aren’t many people who talk about brewing the way you do. And you’re so tall…”
“Well, I’d certainly hope it’s not part of your normal routine,” I said. “It was pretty weird. But also brave, and I have a lot of respect for bravery.”
“Me, too,” Babble said, and he started to fan himself with his hat. “My, it’s getting pretty hot out here. And I’m starting to smell…”
“Rosemary,” Flora said. “You should eat more. It will help with your odor. Oh, look. We’re almost near Pink Cottage, which means that we’re almost at Bob’s Hops farm. It’ll only be a matter of minutes.”
It was only beer hops, but I could start to feel the adrenaline race through my body. On one hand, the knowledge that this was making me so excited made me kind of feel like a total nerd. But on the other hand, I was freaking stoked to get to the next stage of my beer brewing.
And who cared if I was a nerd? After all, my beer knowledge and nerdiness was what was going to win me the top prize at that beer festival, fair and square.
I knew it.
“Here we are,” Babble said as the cart started to slow down.
I snapped out of my train of thought and looked around at our destination. We were definitely at a farm, one that had plenty of flat, well-tilled land. I felt like I could see miles into the distance, and every mile was filled with neat rows of grains, vegetables, and things I couldn’t identify.
There was a small wooden farmhouse with a thatched roof in the distance, but Flora parked the cart outside of a large barn that looked like it had once been painted red, but was now tinged a weird terracotta orange tone.
“Nobody seems to be here,” I said as a refreshing breeze rolled through the grass and through my hair. I looked down at Babble, and he shrugged and started to climb out of the cart.
“Hello!” the little gnome called, and he spun around a few more times before padding toward the barn.
It didn’t look like anybody was in, but I swore that I heard something in the distance. I squinted at the rolling fields as I tried to spot what was making the sound, though I wasn’t sure I was actually hearing something.
“What’s that?” Flora asked as she looked around.
Suddenly, two giant terriers emerged from behind the barn. They threw each other a slightly goofy look before bounding toward us. At first, I thought that they must’ve been running to say hi to the donkey, because neither of them looked like they had particularly vicious intentions. But then it crossed my mind that my employer and companion, Babble, looked like the ideal chew toy.
“Protector, help!” Babble shouted as he started to run back to us.
Flora covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles, but we could still hear her.
“Nope,” I said as I hopped out of the cart.
Just as both gray-colored shaggy terriers were about to pounce on my quivering pal, I took him by the back of his little coat and plopped him back into the cart.
“Hey there, boys,” Flora laughed as the dogs ran up to her and licked her cheeks.
“Well, if these two are here then there must be a farmer,” I said as one of the dogs pawed at my pants and drooled on my shoes. “Shouldn’t there?”
“These are working dogs,” Flora replied as she looked around again. “So who knows? But the hops farmer is always here in the afternoon to sell his grain.”
“You coming, Babble?” I asked as I stepped away from the cart.
“I’m perfectly fine up here,” Babble said as he glared at the dogs. “You know, somebody happened to wake me too early for my liking this morning, so I think that I deserve a little nap!”
“Suit yourself,” I shrugged as I started to walk toward the barn.
There was a soft thump, and a moment later, Flora ran up to my side. She smiled up at me, and for a heartbeat, she started to slip her hand in mine. But then she seemed to remember we were here on business, and she dropped her hands to her side and looked straight ahead.
That’s right, Tyler. Eyes on the prize. Business trip. Money. Beer.
“You know, I’d be terrified of dogs, too, if I was that small,” Flora said. “I mean, they’re taller than he is!”
“I used to be scared of big dogs when I was a kid,” I replied. “And for exactly that reason. I like dogs now, but a lot of people never lose that fear, even when they are bigger than the dog.”
“I like dogs,” Flora sighed. “And cats. Pretty much anything that’s cute and furry...”
“Hey there, Flora!” a voice shouted, and a surprisingly old man stepped out of the barn.
The tan man looked like the guy from the Colombian coffee commercials, with a loose brown tunic, brown pants, and thick leather boots. His head was covered with a conical straw hat with a wide brim that looked like a close cousin of a sombrero. It wasn’t my first choice in headwear, but as I wiped the sweat off my brow I understood the practicalities of wearing a big hat like that.
“Hi, Mr. Gold,” she replied as she smiled. “Great to see you.”
“What brings you to the farm?” he asked, and his eyes brightened at the sight of the basket on her elbow. “You got anything for us?”
“Oh, would you like a pretzel?” Flora asked, and she lifted the white cotton napkin to reveal a neat little stack of fresh pretzels.
“Don’t mind if I do, Flora.” He wagged his fingers as he studied the pretzels, and then with a happy grunt, he picked out one of the more plump specimens. A few grains of salt fell to the ground as he took the first bite, and then he nodded happily as he swallowed.
“Hi there,” I said.
“And who’s this giant?” he asked as he waved the pretzel in my direction.
“Oh, he’s no giant,” Flora laughed before a worried look crossed her face. “Unless you want to be, Tyler.”
“No, no,” I said. “I’ve told the townspeople many times that I’m not a giant, I’m just… uh… pretty tall.”
“That you are,” the farmer agreed and then glanced at Flora. “I’m guessing you’re part of the reason Flora’s here today.”
“I’m trying to help Tyler,” Flora said and blushed. “He’s new in town.”
“Well, I did figure that much out,” the farmer chuckled. “It would be pretty hard for a near-giant to hide in Hagop for very long. Are you starting a business?”
“I am,” I said. “Actually, I’m starting a brewery, and I need some hops for the next phase.”
“A brewery?” he snorted and then looked at Flora.
“He’s very good at making beer,” she replied.
“You’ve tasted his beer, have you?” the farmer asked.
“Well, no...” Flora replied. “But he swears he can do better than Pyotr House.”
The farmer laughed for a moment and then wiped his eyes. He looked at both of us again, shook his head, and then sighed.
“You’re serious about this?” he asked.
“I am,” I assured him. “Trust me, that swill Pyotr House is making is nothing near as good as the beer I can make.”
“He’s from a place called Port-land,” Flora supplied. “The humans make all the beer there, and Tyler says it’s very good.”
“Not just good,” I corrected. “It’s great. Spectacular. Life-changing.”
“That’s some beer,” the farmer replied. “But… I don’t know if I can help. I don’t have much left, and what I do have, I usually sell to the dwarves, since they produce the best beer.”
“But what about a human who can make a better beer than the dwarves?” I asked.
The farmer looked at me for a moment and then at Flora again. He shrugged, looked at the dogs, who were sniffing around the cart, and then out at the fields.
“Walk with me,” he said as he started to head toward the fields. “Maybe we can find some that haven’t been spoken for.”
It wasn’t a yes, but at least it wasn’t a hard no. I still would have argued my ass off if it had been, but at least I knew I had a good chance to get the hops.
“Here’s the last of the tomatoes,” the farmer said as he pointed toward some plants tied to stakes.
The plants were tall and a vibrant green, and strangely shaped heirloom tomatoes hung from almost every one. There were also a few cucumber vines behind it that showed off an impressive amount of small, spiky cucumbers.
“Very impressive,” Flora said. “But you always have the best of everything.”
“It just takes time and a little attention,” the farmer replied. “What about you, Tyler? Ever grown anything?”
“Just a couple of houseplants my mother gave me,” I replied. “I’m afraid there isn’t much room for a garden in a city apartment.”
Both Flora and Bob looked at me, though neither one seemed like they wanted to be the one to admit they had no idea what I was talking about.
“It’s kind of like renting a room to stay in,” I said and shrugged. “Like at Hildegard’s.”
“Ah,” they both replied and nodded.
“As you can see there are lots of chickens,” the farmer said a moment later. “Which means a lot of eggs. I don’t know what I’ll do when my back isn’t so good anymore. I’m always plucking them out of the weirdest places out here. The chickens have a coop, but they seem to find their own favorite spots during the summer.”
“Well, it must get pretty hot in the coop,” I suggested. “It might feel nice to be outside.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Bob replied. “Well, onto the cows now. Look at those beauties.”
I saw that he was referring to a bunch of brown cows with bells around their necks, like the ones they had in Switzerland. They had such big and beautiful eyelashes, that all I wanted to do was stop and say hello. A few of them walked up to the gate and greeted the farmer, and he stepped back so we could pet them as well.
“Oh, they’re lovely,” Flora asked, and then a dark look crossed her face. “What, uhh… why do you have them? I didn’t think you sold milk.”
“I’m starting a creamery,” he said and smiled. “It’s been a lifelong dream of mine, and it’s finally going to happen. The only problem I haven’t solved is how to sell it. I know it’ll be the best butter in town, but I have to convince people that it’s worth the trip to pick some up.”
“Ah,” I said and grinned. “But it might be easier to convince people to buy the butter if, say, the best inn in town or the best bakery were using your butter.”
The farmer smiled and then leaned over the railing to pet another cow that had wandered up, but Flora was still frowning as she stared at the herd.
“Flora,” I said. “A bakery can always use some extra butter, right? And Hildegard says the one where you work is the best in town.”
Flora’s eyes widened with possibility, and for a second, I thought that her braids were going to start levitating off of her head like she was Pippi Longstocking or something.
“Oh, you’re in luck!” she said as she looked at the farmer. “The bakery is always looking for good butter to use in our products, and the boss has talked about selling things like butter and cheese to go with our baked goods. I’m sure I could convince him to sell some of your butter in our store. I mean, just look at these cows. They’re so happy and content that you know they must make the best butter in the world.”
Man, this girl was good. And we didn’t even have to use unjust flattery to try and win this guy over. Nope, just a good and honest trade, and that was the way I liked it.
“Why, Flora,” the farmer said with another huge smile. “That would be wonderful. It would be so much easier if there was a way to transport one large load into the city instead of having people come out here... ”
“I could do it,” Flora agreed quickly. “I was just telling Tyler that I come this way often to visit Mrs. Pinks down the road. But there’s one thing I want in return.”
“Of course, of course,” the farmer shook his head. “I’m sure we can reach a mutually agreeable percentage...”
“Oh, you’ll have to work that out with the owner,” Flora said. “No, what I want in exchange for hauling the butter is a brewing amount of your best hops.”
For a moment the farmer stopped scratching the cow. He looked at the sky, tilted his head from side to side, and deliberated over the best course of action as if there was any doubt about what he would do.
“Hmmm,” he mumbled. “Hops… well, you’re a paying customer, aren’t you, Tyler?”
“Oh,” I said. “Of course, Sir. No messing around with me. That’s why we came here. We weren’t looking for any favors or anything.”
“Then you can have the last of my crop for the year,” the farmer shrugged. “I know there are a few more dwarves who still have to collect hops for the season, but after all, you’re here first, and you and Flora are doing me a great kindness by offering to help with my butter. Come, I’ll show you to the hops. And you be good, Bessie!”
He waved at one of the cows, who nodded her head and made her bell tinkle in response. The cow watched us for a moment, and then she wandered back to the rest of the herd.
I smiled as I watched the cows for another moment, and then I followed the other two to the barn. I realized just how much I’d been sweating as we walked around the farm, and I stepped into the shady coolness of the old structure with relief.
“Just over here,” the farmer said as he led us to one of the corners.
There was a large metal tub in the corner, filled with small, green-yellow bulbous flower buds that looked like tiny, soft pinecones. As the farmer stirred the hops, it gave off a strong earthy scent that reminded me of the alpine regions back home. After a moment, he nodded and then grabbed a large sack, which he started to fill with the very last of the hops.
“I knew that this would work,” I winked at Flora, and she nodded at me.
“Thank you so much, Farmer Gold,” Flora said.
“Ah, it’s just business,” he replied as he handed me the sack. “Nothing unusual about any of this.”
“Do you have any butter we could take back?” Flora asked. “You know, so we can show my boss just how good it is?”
“Of course,” he replied and led us back outside.
We walked around the barn to the back, where a small creek tumbled over the rocks. It wasn’t very deep, but it was deep enough to hold a large metal tub that had been covered with a wooden lid.
“I keep the dairy products cool in this creek,” he said as he opened the lid.
“That’s clever,” I replied.
“I’ll take that whole pail,” Flora said and pointed to a pail that was filled to the rim with butter. “Unless you’ve already promised to sell it to someone else.”
“It’s all yours,” the farmer said as he lifted the pail from the tub.
He carried the pail back to the cart while I lugged the sack of hops. We plopped our goods in the cart next to Babble, who was snoring softly.
“Wake up,” I said as I nudged the gnome. “And pay the man.”
The gnome sat up with a start and rubbed his eyes. He looked around frantically when he suddenly remembered the dogs, but when he didn’t see them, he smiled at Farmer Gold.
“Let’s see,” the gnome murmured as he counted out some silver pieces. “Well, that will make a dent in your pay for today.”
“It’s worth it,” I replied. “To have the best hops in town.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” the farmer said as he accepted the coins. “And I’ll be excited to taste your beer.”
“And I’ll be just as excited to sample your butter,” I replied with a grin. “Thanks again.”
“I’ll be back in a few days,” Flora called out as she slapped the reins.
I waved goodbye as Tulip jogged along the path, and then I leaned back in the cart and smiled as I caught the scent of the hops again.
“A successful venture?” Babble asked as he sniffed the sack.
“Very,” I replied.
It was a quiet trip back to Hagop, and we watched the birds peck at the fields and a couple of deer dart into the trees. It was one of the most peaceful scenes I’d ever enjoyed, until we spotted another cart heading toward us from the town.
“Huh,” Babble said. “Perhaps someone else wants the hops as well.”
“Well, they’ll have to find a different farm,” Flora said. “Because we definitely got the last of Farmer Gold’s.”
As the cart neared us, I tried to make out the face of the driver. It was definitely a dwarf, and something about him struck me as familiar.
It took me a moment, but I realized it was one of the dwarfs I’d met the day before when I went to get the grain. It wasn’t Pyotr House, but…
Cassian.
As we passed the cart, Babble tipped his hat and I nodded my head to be polite. But the dwarf only stared at us and scowled. For a moment, he looked like he would leap into our cart and grab the hops, but I wrapped a protective arm around the sack and stared right back.
The dwarf made a sound somewhere between a growl and a roar, and a chill raced up my spine. His face started to go red as he jerked hard on his reins, and I could feel his eyes boring into me all the way back to Hagop.
So even in a place as peaceful as Hagop, it was apparently possible to make an enemy.