A Promise of Iron Brandon McCoy (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

“A bit harsh, don’t you think?” Lira asked. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive about your heritage.”

I shook my head. “I’ve been called worse by better people.”

I kicked at the empty bottles. “I mean, look at this place. If he was the caretaker, he was worth exactly what you gave him. Get rid of him now or later, at least now we don’t have to put up with his stink.”

Lira ran a finger across the table then rubbed it on the hem of her dress. “It lacks a certain…”

“Cleanliness?” I said.

She chuckled. “I would have said charm, but perhaps you’re right. What this place needs are open windows and a good scrubbing.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “So much for a romantic rendezvous at the winery, huh?”

“Oh, was this supposed to be romantic?” she asked, surveying the room. “This will be fun. You start in here; I’ll go in the back and have a look around.”

I grabbed her hand just as she was walking away. Pulling her close, I kissed her lips and then whispered, “Watch out for rats.”

“Rats?!” She gasped, placing her hand to her forehead. “Whatever shall we do?”

“Want to borrow Nahdril?”

She smiled as she raised her dress and pulled an iron stiletto from a sheath on her inner thigh. She made little jabs in the air. “No thanks, I brought my own.”

My eyebrow lifted. “How did I miss that last night?”

“I wasn’t wearing it last night,” she said, patting me on the rear, “lest I scare you off, my little rabbit.”

I pulled her close again. “I don’t recall you wearing much of anything last night.”

She bit my lip playfully and pushed me away. “Come on, you brute; we have work to do, we can play later.”

I watched her walk down the hall, then listened to her footfalls on the wooden floor as she went deeper into the house. I started with the empty bottles and gathered them by the door.

“This place sure has a lot of bedrooms,” she echoed down the hall. “Must have been functioning as an inn too.”

“Wouldn’t catch me paying for a room here,” I mumbled. “And I lived on the streets for years.”

I found a broom in the kitchen and began attacking the thick layer of dust that had accumulated on every surface of the house.

“Oh, Fae, they have a cute little bathroom. It has matching little tubs and… oh my gods. Fae, this place has running water?”

“Must have it piped in from the lake,” I said. “Pretty substantial investment for a broken winery.”

“You said Crylwin’s mother owned this?”

I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see me nod. “Yes. She spent a lot of time here in her final years.”

I heard her coming back in from the hallway.

“What is it?” I asked, moving my hand to Nahdril.

“My gods, you’re jumpy,” she said, twirling around with a blue dress in hand like a dance partner. “She has closets full, think she would…”

“Mind?” I said. “Doubtful. It’s been years; I’m surprised Monroe left them here, then again, it doesn’t look like he’s seen this place since she passed.”

“I’m sure it still hurts,” she said. “They say time heals wounds…but I still hurt when I think of my mother. Some things never fully heal, I suppose.”

I looked up at her and then back down. I never thought of my mother anymore.

“Why don’t you try it on, see if it fits?” I suggested. “If it fits, then it’s as her quin wills it.”

She twirled around once more, then retreated into the back room. Hours of wiping and dusting and scrubbing passed and the house was becoming something respectable once more.

“I’m going to take these bottles out,” I called out to her. “We should think about dinner too. The town looked pretty deserted, but I bet more than one of these farmers should have a bit of food to spare if it earned them a couple of coins.”

I heard her humming in the back as I opened the door. “Six hells, how much did this man drink…”

I trailed off as I felt someone behind me standing on the porch.

Lira came down the hall as naked as the sun. “Fae, what do you think of this green one. Blue is certainly my color but this…Ahhhh!” She shrieked as she held up the dress to cover herself.

“Close your mouth, Samial,” a voice from behind said.

I turned slowly.

Two Ruks stood at the edge of the porch, as old and weathered as this place. “Hallo!” the old woman said. “You must be the new master?”

“That’s right,” I said, wiping my hand on my shirt before extending it. “And you are?”

The old woman took my hand eagerly. “I’m Tabitha, and this old root is Samial.” She pointed to the hill overlooking the lake. “We’re your neighbors just up on the hill there.”

“Nice to meet you both, I’m Faer… Lordson Faerin Monroe. And in the back, there is…my… Lira.”

The old woman cupped a hand to her mouth. “Sorry if we gave you a fright, deary. If it makes you feel any better, my Sam can’t see past his own boots.”

Samial grunted.

Lira said nothing.

“ ‘Fraid we might have scared her off, poor thing,” Tabitha said. “Didn’t mean to intrude, just, well, we saw you come in…. Saw that rat, Matherly, heading down the road and figured introductions were in order. May we come in? I fear we will need to get this meat in the cold box or on the grill straight away.” She waived a thick hand in front of her face. “Dreadful heat today.”

I looked behind and saw a pull cart laden with crates. “Of… of course,” I stammered. “Here, let me help to un…”

“Nonsense!” she said with a raised hand. “My Sam will do that; we know our way around. Why don’t you go find that pretty thing of yours so this old lady can get a proper look at her.”

She turned to me. “Bless my quin, his eyes, Sam. Look at his eyes.” She patted my