Once I returned to my hovel, I used my cell phone to browse through the offerings of several Baltimore galleries and custom furniture stores, paying obscene amounts of coin to purchase items that appealed to me and having them delivered today. Wealth got things done here in the human world just as it did back home, and I was interested to discover that the proprietors were more excited when they discovered I was a member of the Baltimore Tusks than about my royal lineage. In less than an hour delivery trucks were arriving. Not surprisingly, pictures of me standing next to the carefully hung artwork or sitting on the furniture were required. Back home craftspeople and artisans wanted potential customers to know that their wares were purchased by the royalty. The humans seemed to feel that same about a member of their sports teams.
By the time Jerome’s uncle arrived from the hardware store, my apartment was a completely different hovel. It still was tiny with boring white walls and horrible carpet, but the clean linesof the hand-crafted furniture warmed my heart. And the artwork on the walls made me feel a bit less like I was an impoverished nobody. Who knew that humans were so skilled?
Jerome’s uncle had the same close-cropped black hair as his nephew, but this male’s beard was thick and long, the ebony curls glistening. It reminded me of the facial hair styles favored by the Morahjn orcs back home.
The human male shook my hand, introducing himself as Hassan. He paused after the final trip carrying up my purchases and looked around my hovel.
“Wow, your furnishing are gorgeous. And is that a Murjoni Merriweather sculpture? I don’t want to even think how much that must have set you back. I’m sure your real estate agent will have you out of here and in your own home soon because none of this belongs in an apartment. Although I’m sure you all just got here and are dealing with whatever the team accommodations are until you find something more suitable.”
I wanted to say that I wouldn’t be staying long enough to purchase something more suitable, but bit back the reply. If I hoped to delay and stay a year or two before my parents insisted I return home, then purchasing a nicer den was a good idea. It wasn’t like I needed to be frugal or didn’t have enough money to purchase a human home.
“I haven’t seen the Tusks play yet, but I’m glad we finally have a hockey team in Baltimore,” Hassan continued.
“We are terrible,” I warned him. “We have lost the two games we’ve played. Expect us to lose every game this season.”
He laughed. “My wife’s family is from Chicago. Between the Blackhawks, the Bears, and the Cubs, we’re used to losing. Doesn’t mean we’ll abandon our team, though.”
“We will lose to the Blackhawks next week,” I said glumly
“Then my father-in-law will be very happy.” He tilted his head, regarding me. “Would you mind coming by the hardwarestore sometime and letting us take a picture of you there? We’ve owned Al-Sayyed Hardware for two generations and appreciate that you chose our family store to buy your tools and supplies.”
“Of course.” I didn’t tell him that I’d chosen the store at random, remembering it from my walks around the neighborhood. “I would be honored to have a photo taken in your store with your family.”
He beamed. “I’m also very interested in this traditional orc game you’re building.”
I nodded. “I play chess, checkers, and backgammon with elderly humans at Heritage Park in an area called Dundalk. They meet daily at eight in the morning at a pub for liquid breakfast, then go to the park to play. Come by and I will show you how to play Hnefatafl.”
“I’ll do that.” Hassan shook my hand again, refusing the human currency I tried to give him. “No, no. You paid a delivery fee. That’s sufficient. And my tip is learning to play your Hnefatafl.”
After he left I sorted through the delivery items, knowing this would take much longer than it would at home since I was unfamiliar with the human electric-powered tools. I was a bit unfamiliar with our magic or our hand-powered tools back home as well since I just purchased anything I needed already made. As a child I’d frequently snuck out of the castle and away from my minders, and many times I’d ended up in the section of the city where craftspeople made wooden toys, blew beautiful glass vases, and crafted the most amazing metal artwork and tools. The game board and pieces wouldn’t be as intricate or precisely crafted as those back home, but I knew it would be functional.
There wasn’t enough time to hang my flag, so I left it in its box and jogged over to Heritage Park. The usual humans were there—Benny, Frank, Dave, Edna, Helen, and Piotr. Today they had chessboards set up and I groaned, knowing that I had littlechance of winning this game. Not that winning was the purpose. I didn’t care if we won our hockey games because I was in protest of us being made fools by the humans. I didn’t care if I won these games because I liked my time with these elderly humans. They reminded me of the ancient orcs back home who told stories of their life and seemed to be enjoying the sunset of their days. These human elders smelled better than the orc ones, though. From what I could discern their odor was a combination of skin moistening lotion, cream for shaving, ointment for sore muscles, and whatever they’d had for breakfast.
“Enzo!” Piotr rose awkwardly from the picnic table bench where he’d been sitting and embraced me, thumping my biceps with his bony hands. “Did you bring that orc game you were talking about?”
“It is unavailable for purchase here, so I will need to make one. I will bring it tomorrow or perhaps Monday morning.” I thought about my date with the shrew and where I wanted us to end up afterward. “I may not come to play games tomorrow. I am feeding a human female tonight and I hope we will not wake up until late tomorrow morning or maybe afternoon.”
The human males roared with laughter and cheers. Even the human females giggled, shaking a finger my way but tempering the scold with a smile.
Piotr motioned me over to sit opposite him. “Tell me about this woman of yours, Enzo. Is this a first date? A long-term girlfriend? Do you see the potential for marriage with her?”
I opened my mouth to say a vehement no to the last question, only to shut it, the word unspoken. The shrew wasn’t princess material, not at all the sort of female my parents had in mind when they discussed our future queen and the mother of my children, but… Something about her jolted me out of the sullen boredom of the last few decades of my life. She brought back aspark of that childhood fun I’d once had. Even our arguments were invigorating.
And the sex was amazing. She was strong, flexible, and creative. I never tired of her. Just thinking of her bold passion, her unbridled enjoyment of our joining, awakened my hand-axe to a semi-hard state.
Which was rather uncomfortable given the fabric of the trousers I was wearing.
“We have been seeing each other for a week,” I told the man, “but we have not had what humans would call a date yet.”
“Ah yes, the ‘booty call’ as my grandchildren call it.” Piotr began setting up the chess pieces. “We weren’t all chaste virgins in my day either, but at least peoplewantedto get married back then. Nowadays kids are happy to just fool around until they’re ready for the nursing home. I’ve got this granddaughter that is probably never going to get married. Whoo-boy, the men never last more than a few months with her.”
I frowned, wondering if this was common with human females. Ozar’s mate seemed open to long-term, committed relationships, but perhaps she was the anomaly. I might never find a suitable bride if human females were so averse to marriage. Once more, I thought about just kidnapping one off the street, but it wasn’t just the logistical difficulties and the edict by the angels that made that plan ill-advised. What if I grabbed an unsuitable female? I could end up married to a horrible wife who didn’t have the skills to even be a royal figurehead, or one who was infertile, or one that my hand-axe refused to rise for. I’d be better off kidnapping the shrew if things turned that desperate. At least I knew we were physically compatible.
“Are you cooking for this woman?” Piotr had given me the white pieces and motioned for me to go first.
“By the mountain gods, no. I donotcook.” I moved a pawn forward two spaces with zero strategic intent.
Piotr chuckled and moved one of the horse pieces. “So just microwave something. It doesn’t sound like you’ll spend much time in the dining room anyway.”
