Granny Trudy vs Munck’s date

Wizard Merunas was stopped mid merry whistle when the world around him was plunged in ink. He turned in the black marble hall as the two coal basins lit up, just enough light to glint off the visitor. Why must it always wear those yellow robes?, Merunas thought idly, dropping the undergarments he had been in the process of packing. Doesn’t go with the décor at all.

The visitor spoke in a voice like waves crashing.

“Delay? Well, the roads are dangerous … Of course they will make it.”

The being asked a question like the gurgling at the end of a maelstrom.

“On time? Well, it’s been seventy years already, what’s a few more …”

Merunas received a hit to the temple. For a moment, his breath caught as his mind’s eye witnessed the stretching, squelching entities, projecting knowledge into his skull. It was exactly like, for a second, forcing an ant to be a human.

“I’ll see that things are prepared, master,” Merunas’ shaky voice rang through the void as the flames died.

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Trudy ladled out another helping. “Stop being fussy. You need to eat.”

Hungerford peered quizzically into the bowl of stew. The first helping had tasted divine, so had the second, but he was in danger of losing a button on his trousers.

They had a table to themselves at the first tavern they found. Trudy approved of it. Unlike Dolly’s haunt, it was a perfectly quaint and jolly affair, outfitted with local artists’ paintings of depressed cattle and as many dried herbs and garlic garlands as would fit on the wood beams. The table was laden with a gigantic pot of stew and enough beer to drown the horse that was currently enjoying a quiet night in at a decent stable. The beer ended up mostly in Dolly’s stomach and the stew mostly in Hungerford’s.

“Well, it’s not the capital, but we’re almost at the outskirts.” Hungerford tried for optimism. After a cold, mosquito-filled night in the forest and an endless offering of country road, the sight of the small town they were currently filling their bellies in had prompted the wizard to drop to his knees and kiss the ground.

“Glory be,” Trudy mumbled, mainly hoping for a bed that wouldn’t test her spine. And one to have for herself, because waking up to a loudly snoring Dolly spooning her was not an experience she planned to repeat.

Hungerford had something else on his mind. “Say, when you, uh, fell … didn’t your adoptive parents ever talk to you about destiny and such?”

“The subject came up,” Trudy shrugged. “But they were quick to say that I shouldn’t be disappointed if it wouldn’t be so.”

“Of course,” Mole nodded. “I set on the course to heroism! I’ll never forget the day I set out to become an adventurer, my mums, may they rest in peace, had made me a brand-new set of weapons ...”

“I always knew I was special,” interrupted Aunt Dolly, “with or without some destiny. And several gentlemen and ladies can attest to that,” she added with a wink. “Any more beer to be had?”

Hungerford waved to the passing waitress. “Excuse me, ma’am, we’d like to order …”

The waitress turned around, and Hungerford came to a halt like a victim of a petrifying curse, staring open-mouthed with one hand still raised.

“Yes?” the pretty girl said.

“Uh,” Hungerford said, distracted by the light that reflected off her curls.

“Do … you need another minute?”

“Uh,” said Hungerford, lost in big hazel eyes hung in a face that would have artists engage in a fistfight for the right to paint it first.

The waitress put a hand on her hip. Her full lips dragged themselves into a one-sided smile. “Well? See something you like or just browsing?”

Hungerford spluttered and for a moment lost all higher functions. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on.

“I’ll take a beer, and a new jaw for the boy,” Dolly said loudly, grinning ear to ear and not a bit ashamed of it.

“Coming right up!”

The waitress retreated, with a look back at Hungerford halfway to the bar.

“Why, if I was thirty years younger …” Trudy began appreciatively.

“Would it be rude if I agreed?” Mole added.

“Be rude if you didn’t,” Dolly mumbled.

Hungerford’s brain returned from whichever sunny pastures it had momentarily escaped to to the sensation of being nudged by elbows from all sides.

“What? What is it? Why is Dolly doing that thing with her eyebrow?”

“Oh, come now, Munck, we all saw.” Mole’s huge elbow would leave marks in Hungerford’s ribcage.

“I, I, I don’t know what you mean …”

Never one to resist an inner impulse, Dolly had begun to tap a rhythm on the table. “Hungry Boy and the waitress, sitting in a tree …”

Munck’s face could have successfully hidden in a barrel of beetroot. “Really, now, that’s not very mature …”

Trudy was not trying too hard to hide her grin. “Oh no, I meant to order another drink, we’ll have to call back the waitress.”

Hungerford hid behind the menu. “Could you possibly stop being forgetful?”

“Not at my age. Excuse me, miss!”

Hungerford made an attempt to hide behind Mole, who was having none of it, and in despair dropped his fork under the table. As he went to get it, he heard Trudy say, “Oh, I’m sorry, I just can’t decide, could you come back in a minute?”

“Of course. Anything for you down there?”

Hungerford startled and hit his head on the table. “Uh, no thank you, I mean, uh, yes, I mean …” He stood up, rubbing his suffering skull. The girl stayed where she was, and Hungerford realised she was the prettiest halfling he’d ever seen. That at least explained why her eyes were level with his while he had been sitting down.

“Little fact about me, I’m very good at climbing,” she winked.

“Really? Blimey, they must love you during the apple harvest.”

She slapped his arm as high as she could reach. “You’re funny! I’m Rosy Harfoot, by the way.”

Hungerford, secretly swearing to never wash this arm again, stuttered his way through introductions and tried to remember his manners. “Hungerford Munck, pleased to meet you, Miss Harfoot …”

“Say, are you a wizard?”

“Oh, well …”

“Best wizard I ever met, and I’ve met many in my time,” Mole nodded immediately.

“You should see how well he fixed up our cart, very practical,” Trudy conceded.

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“Might show you a particular pointy hat tri…” Dolly began before Trudy covered her mouth.

But the pretty waitress only had eyes and ears for Hungerford. “You wizards like stars, don’t you?”

“Oh, sure, yes, stars, very, uh, very magical, yes, the constellations …”

“There’s really no better place to watch the stars than the big willow on the hill. It’s not far from here. Why don’t you meet me there tonight and tell me all about constellations?”

Hungerford fell into immediate panic. “What, tonight? Well, we really should be getting on…”

“We’re not driving at night,” Trudy said categorically. “The poor horse has barely recovered. I’m sure we’ll be in town for at least a few days.”

“But, but we should get some rest …”

Dolly grinned at him and once again her eyebrows wiggled. “We’ll go to bed early, never you worry about us. We won’t hear a thing.”

Rosy smiled up at Hungerford, who didn’t dare speak in case his heart pounded out of his mouth. “Splendid. So, see you at eight?”

“Uh …”

Mole’s big hand came down on Munck’s back before he could answer, but the wizard hardly felt it. “I’ll get him out the door on time.”

The waitress laughed and swaggered back towards the bar.

“Are you three out of your mind?” Munck, awakening from romantic trance and now straining against the urge to scream, whispered in the safety of a menu.

“Tone,” Trudy said. The suspicious redness in the boy’s face was not lost on her. Alas, there had been a time when she had produced the same reaction in young men, and watching Hungerford squirm was almost as amusing. “What’s the matter, don’t you like her?”

“Yes …” mumbled the menu.

“Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

Hungerford peeked over the soup selection towards the counter, eyes bigger and more watery than ever. “Loveliest girl I’ve ever seen, above or under four foot … What am I supposed to do?”

“You’ll pretty up a bit and then you go meet her.”

“But the prophecy …”

“The prophecy can wait a day, you’re only young once!”

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“Hello there, I brought my book on constellations … no. Hey, sweet thing, how’s it … no. C’mon, baby, let’s go for a ride … gods no. Shall I compare you to a summer’s day, I realise it’s only spring, but …”

“You’re overthinking this.” Mole appeared in the doorway of their shared room in the inn down the street from the fateful tavern, where Hungerford had spent the last half hour in front of a cracked mirror, test-driving his smile and wrecking conversation. “Just be yourself.”

“If I had a penny for every time … where has being myself gotten me so far?”

“Out of the house, which when you get to my age isn’t so bad. C’mon, sit down a moment.”

Hungerford did. Mole swung an arm around his shoulder. “Now, Trudy tells me you had no parents, so I’ll tell you. You see, when a man likes a lady very much …”

Oh gods, no, Munck thought. Sweet, merciful gods that definitely exist, please, everything but that!

Alas, the gods were busy, and Mole went on uninterrupted.

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Hungerford staggered out of the inn for some fresh air. He shook himself to get the past half hour out of his mind, and found he had no luck as he was suddenly faced with Dolly. She’d been smoking outside and now called to him with a grinning “Coo-ee, Hungry Boy!”

“Yes?” Hungerford said, bracing himself in fear of a saucy joke.

“Just the man I wanted to see. Walk with me a bit.” Aunt Dolly swung an arm around him and due to size landed on his middle. “Now, I know you ain’t got folks, so I’ll tell you some secrets …” Her eyebrows wriggled a grey staccato on her face.

Hello, gods?, Munck thought. Sweet, merciful gods? Maybe you didn’t hear me before, but I really need saving now! Please? Ple…

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Hungerford looked left, right, and, after a moment’s hesitation, upwards at the ceiling in case Mole was being sneaky again. No one. The coast was clear, the coast being the hallway of the inn. He had just escaped Dolly and hoped he would be able to handle stiff drinks one of these days, because he felt he needed one very badly. Tiptoeing down the hall, he listened for any sound of elderly good intentions, and nearly jumped out of his robes when he heard “Ford, could you help me with something for a second?”

Munck turned to see Trudy standing in a doorway. “What is it?”

“Come in a moment, I can’t for the life of me find my glasses.”

Hungerford had just closed the door behind him. “You don’t wear glasses.”

“Oh, right. But since you’re here …” Trudy swung an arm around him.

“Oh no, not you, too!”

“What? I haven’t said anything.”

“Please, I beg, I already had, uh, preparations from Mole and Dolly …”

“Fine,” Trudy removed herself with an insulted huff. “I thought you needed me. I was there for you when you were attacked by a boar. I was there for you with the dragon. Now I was going to tell you what always worked on my dates, but if I’m only being a nuisance ...”

“Your dates?”

“What, you think I was born with grey hair and a behind like bread dough? At sixteen, I was gorgeous, voluptuous with skin like fresh butter, hair flaming red like rich strawberry jam…”

Munck thought it safer to just believe.

“… I had my pick of the town’s most eligible goat herders. But since that year there were twenty unmarried men and women in town, we decided by height. How d’you think I ended up with your father? Munck, what were we talking about?”

“Going on dates, Miss Trudy,” Munck said, patiently accepting his fate. Some were born great, some achieved greatness, and he … had outdated advice thrust upon him.

“The point is three things: One, don’t get fresh.”

“What if she gets fresh with me?”

“I’m beginning to think you’re hoping for that. In that case, I’m sure Mole and Dolly have explained everything. Two: Ask about her interests and then remember everything. And three …”

“Be yourself?”

“Gods no, I was going to say don’t be weird.”

“Thank you, I feel much better now,” Munck sighed like a man facing the firing squad.

Trudy poked him in the chest. “You got all that?”

“Yes, Miss Trudy.”

“Good. Now let’s fix that hair, it’s a jungle up here.”

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Mole knocked on the door for the eighth time. “Come on, Munck, you’ll be late!”

“A minute!” came a shaky call from inside.

“What’s he doing in there?”

Trudy and Dolly took turns spying through the keyhole, to no avail. “Not messing up the hair again, I hope, took a tub of pomade …”

The door opened. Before them stood a freshly laundered Hungerford, lavender-scented and hair still neatly brushed. A carnation bouquet trembled ever so slightly in this hand. “Do I look nervous?”

“No,” the three elders lied.

“Now hurry up.” Mole all but carried the wizard downstairs. At the door, Hungerford looked back to the three of them waving encouragingly. He tried to wave back, caught between running away and running far away.

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The hilltop presented a lovely view of the quaint little town settling into the dusk. Hungerford marched a trench around the willow. At least he was on time. More than on time. He’d come prepared with his books on stars and a list of possibly conversation topics. He’d started on a step-by-step guide, but Trudy had insisted a decent bath was more important.

“Have you been waiting long?”

Hungerford turned and his throat made a sound that was usually only heard in old doors, and suddenly he wished he owned a suit. Rosy’s pink dress ribboned about her figure, the lace accentuating just the right places that Hungerford quickly looked away from, but a part of his brain went “Golly!” and clicked its heels together. “That dress is lovely, Rosy.”

“Oh, this old thing?”

Hungerford caught himself staring again and quickly pushed the bouquet forward. “These are for you!”

“Aw, how sweet.”

“I hope you’re not allergic! Or just don’t like flowers! I’m shouting!”

“Relax, Mr Wizard. C’mon, sit down with me. Don’t you just love the view up here?”

“Very nice,” said Hungerford, who couldn’t concentrate on anything. He grabbed a book like a shield. “S-so, why don’t we start with the Bowman, very clearly seen this time of year …”

Hungerford nattered on for five minutes before his voice turned into a squeaky hinge again as he noticed Rosy inching closer.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just a little chilly.”

“Oh, well, in that case …” Munck slipped out of his robes and laid them around the halfling’s shoulders, which given the size difference meant she almost vanished inside.

“But now you’ll be cold. We can share the robes. There.”

Wrapped up in his robes next to a girl, Hungerford tried not to break out in ecstatic hives. Rosy pointed upwards to a piece of sky. “What’s that bunch of stars called?”

“Th-that’s the Big Tripper, if you look closely it looks like a man stumbling over a cat.”

“And the one under it?”

“That would be the cat. There’s a picture of it here somewhere, it’s best seen in the winter…” Hungerford leafed carefully with Rosy leaning half over him.

“This book is pretty old, is it?”

“Oh, yes, it used to belong to my master. He gave it to me when I started studying with him. Hard to believe that was almost ten years ago …”

Something suddenly seemed to occur to Rosy. “Wait. How old are you again?”

“Twenty-two.”

At that, Rosy subtly scooted away. “Oh dear.”

“What’s wrong?”

The halfling unwrapped herself from his robes and tried to look around casually to not let on how red her embarrassed face was getting. “I thought you were older. Oh, I should have asked first, I’ve never been good at telling human ages …”

“What’s wrong with my age? How old are you?”

“Forty-five.”

Hungerford calculated for a few seconds. “Well … for a halfling that’s almost the same age, isn’t it? Humans live shorter lifespans, twenty-two really isn’t all that young. And I grew up among elderly people, I’m really quite old for my age. Positively a grandpa, me. I mean, I’m serious about stars.” And he tried to put on a very serious face which would have made Trudy offer him a prune.

“So you don’t think I’m taking advantage?”

Please do, Hungerford thought, but aloud he said, “No, of course not.”

Rosy seemed to consider this for a moment, hands twisting in the lace of her skirt. “I still don’t think this is right.”

“Oh.” Hungerford closed his book and tried to keep his voice from cracking. By the law of humanity, he was a grown man, but by the law of everyone around him he was nothing but a little boy. He really needed a drink. “I’ll walk you home then, shall I? And, and maybe I could write to you in ten years?”

“I’d like that.” For a moment, the wizard’s face in the moonlight seemed so depressed he really looked several years older, but he recovered his composure quickly. She shrugged off his robes and handed them up. “Here’s your robes back.”

“Oh no, you’ll need it for the way. Please, I insist. Wouldn’t want you to fall ill.”

He smiled down on her as he said it and suddenly, Rosy couldn’t resist. “Or … maybe you could write to me next week when I’ve recovered from how silly I’m being.”

“I can do that, please let me do that. So … shall we go?”

“You know what? Let’s sit a bit longer.”