Cronica Acadia

by C. J. Deering

  “You gents be having wine?”

  “Ah, sure,” answered Doppelganger. He smiled confidently at her, and she was not unreceptive.

  “Aged Vinlandian?”

  “For three,” said Doppelganger.

  “Be right back.”

  Dangalf took a seat with them. “Well, I asked Master Tolliver if he had any other strangers come in here. People who said they were from a distant land, maybe even another world.”

  “What did he say?”

  “No. I also asked if death were permanent in this land or if for a small fee you could buy your soul back.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked me to stop talking to him.”

  The wench set down wine in three cups and placed a hand on Dangalf’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, love. Master Tolliver says you pay for your drink in advance.” Dangalf looked over to Tolliver, who looked at him suspiciously.

  “How much?”

  “Eight copper. Each.”

  “Twenty-four copper for wine!” said Dangalf. “Better enjoy it.”

  Nerdraaage looked at the wine and pushed it away. “Could I just get some water?”

  “Are you having a laugh?” she said. “I suppose if you don’t mind the company of horses you can drink all the water you like.” The wench took their payment and went away laughing.

  “We need to try to make an effort to blend in,” said Dangalf. He tipped his cup to Doppelganger and they drank. “Not too bad,” he said of the wine.

  “Wine for breakfast,” said Doppelganger. “I could get used to this.”

  “Not at these prices. We’ll all be drinking with the horses.”

  A buzz ran through the bar as a dozen necks craned toward the stairs leading to the second floor. Doppelganger, Dangalf, and Nerdraaage looked also, Nerdraaage standing for a better view. “Oh, shite!” he said as he sat back down.

  Ashlyn stepped delicately downstairs, trying to remain unaffected by the commotion and the eyes fixated on her. She scrubbed up very well, and her hair was up. She wore simple hemp clothes, but they were in the she-elf fashion and provided minimal coverage. Bare shoulders, bare stomach, bare legs—bare long legs that glided down the stairs as gracefully as they’d bounded through the dense woods last night. Dangalf did not think it possible for her to be more beautiful. But then she smiled and became so.

  Ashlyn found this attention embarrassing but not unpleasant. She went to their table and sat down almost on Dangalf even though the empty side of the bench was next to Nerdraaage. She put her arm around Dangalf to steady herself on the fraction of bench she occupied.

  “You look…nice,” offered Dangalf.

  “So do you guys in your new clothes!”

  “Not like you,” said Doppelganger.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” she protested. “Mistress Tolliver went to all this trouble to make this for me from an actual she-elf pattern. I didn’t see how I could refuse.”

  “How much did that cost!” demanded Nerdraaage.

  “This?” she replied. “Nothing. It was a gift. It’s amazing the skill people can have without machines.”

  “Want some wine?” asked Dangalf as he slid Nerdraaage’s cup to her.

  “Yes!” she said taking a drink.

  Dangalf was becoming intoxicated by more than the wine. “Are you wearing perfume?” he asked.

  “Oh!” she protested again. “Mistress Tolliver dabbed this plant extract on me. Spritewillow. Do you like it?”

  Awkward silence all around.

  “Well,” she backtracked. “Not do you like it, but does it bother you? ’Cause I can go wash it off. See, Mistress Tolliver only has those four boys, who she says are as rough as her husband, and she never had a daughter to spoil, and spritewillow is very expensive, and I didn’t want to insult her, and does anyone else think I’m talking too much?”

  “No,” said Dangalf as coolly as he could. Her breath was warm and wine flavored.

  Doppelganger and Nerdraaage looked at each other so as not to have to look at Dangalf and Ashlyn. Ashlyn finished the rest of the wine.

  “So I asked Mistress Tolliver, in kind of a roundabout way, if she had met any other strangers like us. The short answer is no.”

  “I asked Master Tolliver the same thing.”

  “You’re so smart,” she said.

  Dangalf blushed. He was falling for Ashlyn and made himself think of the man he had met that had turned into Elftrap and renamed herself Ashlyn. But the image of that man was fading fast as it was replaced by the incarnate sexy she-elf whose warm, wine-flavored breath tickled his whiskers.

  “Anybody else hungry?” interjected Doppelganger.

  “More wine!” said Ashlyn.

  The serving wench approached, her demeanor now quite reserved. Dangalf noticed it and couldn’t help but wonder if it was spite directed at Ashlyn, who had joined them since the wench’s last appearance.

  “I don’t think we can do anymore wine,” said Doppelganger weighing the change purse.

  “We have our own hemp wine. Only a copper a cup. Not as tasty as the Vinlandian, but it’ll make you loose,” and then out of the side of her mouth, “or looser for some of you.” Ashlyn got the inference and shot a look at the wench. Ah! Thought Dangalf, clearly it was spite!

  The serving wench brought them venison roast and a platter of boiled potatoes, corn, turnips, and cabbages. Ashlyn ate only of the vegetables. Dangalf had some of everything. He had never had turnip and cabbage before, and he could not understand how he had missed out on something that tasted so good. Doppelganger and Nerdraaage started eating the vegetables only after the meat was gone.

  Between bites, Nerdraaage asked, “Why did she tell us to save the corn cobs?”

  “Because they don’t have toilet paper,” answered Dangalf. But Nerdraaage was certain he was answering a completely different question.

  Even though they were on the precipice of bankruptcy, they kept the wine flowing. Finally the wench took pity on Nerdraaage and brought him a cup of water. He promptly spit it out. “It tastes like dirt!”

  “It’s probably from a well,” said Dangalf.

  Nerdraaage was done eating and didn’t like the taste of the water, so he sat and watched his friends’ happiness increase proportional to their drunkenness. He lowered his head and softly cried.

  “What’s wrong?” said Dangalf.

  “I want to go home.”

  “Well, we can’t right now.”

  “I don’t belong here.”

  “That’s because you’re not smart,” Ashlyn said.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Seriously,” she said. “A dwarf that doesn’t drink. Why do you think you sucked last night?”

  “I don’t remember you doing so great last night!” he said.

  “I’m a ninety-pound elf!”

  “Of course!” said Dangalf. “Alcohol!”

  God how Nerdraaage hated Elftrap! Or whatever he was calling himself now! Especially now because she was probably right. In the game, dwarves needed to maintain a 0.1 to 0.3 percent blood alcohol content for peak performance. Maybe that was true in this world. He would need to try it. He couldn’t again bear the humiliation of his cowardice last night. He would have thought by now that he was accustomed to humiliation with all of his experience with it in the old universe, but it had become more painful than ever. Maybe this was the race memory that Dangalf was talking about and his new dwarf brain had very little tolerance for cowardice.

  Dangalf pushed his wine before Nerdraaage, who smelled it. Nerdraaage had only been offered a drink before from an older cousin—some brutal liquor that smelled like poison before he could even taste it. He choked it down to please his cousin only to vomit it up seconds later. He smelled the hemp wine. It had a nutty, earthy, creamy smell. He did not know how his brain recognized those characteristics, but it did smell good. He took a sip, and it tasted even better. He downed the rest of his glass and smiled broadly. Doppel
ganger and Ashlyn pushed their cups to him.

  And the drinking began in earnest.

  Soon they were all shite faced. Ashlyn leaned heavily on Dangalf. Nerdraaage was red faced partly from drunkenness and partly from getting slapped by the serving wench. And now he broke into song:

  Tell her to make me a cambric shirt

  Everyone someday drinks the gravewhisper wine

  Without a seam or needlework

  Then she’ll be a true love of mine

  Tell her to enter the profundity

  Everyone someday drinks the gravewhisper wine

  And follow it down to the forgotten city

  Then she’ll be a true love of mine

  The handful of patrons cheered his music. The silence left after Nerdraaage’s ditty was filled in another corner where a patron played a fiddle softly.

  “Where the hell did you learn that?” laughed Doppelganger.

  “I don’t know,” Nerdraaage shrugged.

  “I think pub songs are a race-memory for dwarves,” said Dangalf. “Where did you get those lyrics?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He just changed the words,” said Ashlyn. “That’s a Simon and Garfunkel song.”

  “No it isn’t,” said Dangalf.

  “It totally is!”

  “I mean, I know they did it, but the song goes back at least as far as an ancient ballad called “The Elfin Knight.” He sang about gravewhisper. That’s not something that exists in our old world.”

  “You saying they stole our song?” asked Doppelganger.

  “Maybe we stole theirs. Well, stolen might be a little harsh. Bards played that song all over. Maybe an ancient bard brought it from one world to the other.”

  “When did you get so smart?” asked Ashlyn.

  “I’ve always been smart,” said Dangalf. “But yes, my brain has changed. All my memories are much more accessible.”

  “I think my brange has chained too,” slurred Nerdraaage.

  “How would bards get from one world to the other?”

  “How did we get here?” asked Dangalf.

  “So do you think we’ll ever be able to leave this place?” asked Ashlyn.

  “Who wants to leave?” demanded Nerdraaage.

  “I don’t know,” said Ashlyn. “Still it would be nice to know if we can.”

  “I agree,” said Dangalf. “But we have to take care of our basic needs first. Doppel and I can get our training here, and then we can move on to Hammersmith and Templa Taur for your training.”

  “Yes! Hammersmith next,” demanded Nerdraaage.

  “It is on the way.”

  Ashlyn shrugged. Nerdraaage pumped his fist in the air.

  Doppelganger moved some silver and copper coins around on the tabletop. “Things are going to be tight for a while,” he said.

  “I’ve got an idea,” said Nerdraaage, drunkenly stepping back up on his chair.

  “Is there a human here who will arm wrestle me for a crown!” he challenged.

  “I will,” said Doppelganger.

  “Not you. Anyone else?”

  “I will!”

  The voice came from a sturdy farm boy in the corner. He was a foot higher than Nerdraaage but not quite as wide. They met at the empty table between the two parties. Another man, perhaps the boy’s father, held the contestants’ clasped hands in a neutral position before announcing, “Ready, steady, go!”

  The farm boy slowly and steadily worked Nerdraaage’s fist toward the table until he was only an inch from defeat. Nerdraaage looked warily back toward the other Keepers, who watched anxiously. Suddenly Nerdraaage’s look of consternation turned to a broad smile. “Psyche!” said Nerdraaage, and he twisted the boy’s arm back until it cracked the tabletop. The older patron set a silver coin on the table, and he and the boy, rubbing his hand, went back to their table.

  “I owned him!” Nerdraaage announced to the bar. He returned to his friends, who were cheering him, and slapped a silver coin next to their other money. Tolliver stepped to the table and scooped two silver coins from their small stash.

  “That’s for the table you broke,” he said to Nerdraaage.

  Dangalf didn’t like Nerdraaage’s lack of sportsmanship, especially since he was introducing foreign terms such as “psyche” and “owned,” and he told him so. Dangalf said all the Keepers should be careful not to contaminate this world with language and concepts from their own world. He was met with a skeptical look from Nerdraaage.

  “It’s like Star Trek,” said Dangalf. “The prime directive says you can’t interfere with or contaminate the normal development of another civilization.”

  “Starfleet General Order Number One,” added Ashlyn.

  “This is a new world for us, and you’re Captain Kirk,” said Dangalf.

  “I’m Captain Kirk,” said Nerdraaage nodding.

  They could barely keep their eyes open and agreed it was time to seek lodgings. “If we’re going to be paying for training and gear, looks like we’ll be sleeping in the stable,” said Doppelganger. He slid some coins to Dangalf. “For your training and gear,” he explained.

  “We need to budget for wine, too,” insisted Nerdraaage.

  “Mistress Tolliver said I could take a room here without charge,” said Ashlyn. “But just me.” She grimaced by way of an apology.

  “That’s fine,” said Dangalf.

  “I’m gonna head for the stables,” said Doppelganger.

  Nerdraaage and Dangalf rose to join him, but Ashlyn covertly held onto Dangalf’s sleeve. Doppelganger and Nerdraaage shuffled toward the door and turned back to Dangalf.

  “I’ll be there in a few,” said Dangalf. He sat back down next to Ashlyn.

  “I’m in the corner room in the back. Maybe you can sneak in. If you want.”

  A kettledrum pounded in his chest. He was sure her elf ears could hear it.

  “Yeah, okay,” said Mr. Nonchalant.

  VIII

  Ashlyn waved to Dangalf from her window situated above a latticework. He climbed easily, fueled by liquor and lust. He was glad to be a pure ectomorph on this occasion, as the lattice supported him without a sound.

  Ashlyn pulled him into the small room, laughing quietly. “Do you mind sleeping on the floor?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “I figured it had to be better than sleeping in the stable.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I’m so tired,” she said. “Goodnight.” And she laid down with her back to Dangalf. He didn’t mind. Her body was as attractive from that angle as from the front.

  “Goodnight.”

  Dangalf did not fall immediately to sleep. His mind raced as he played back all that had transpired in their first twenty-four hours in this new universe. He decided that what was most astounding was the mind’s capacity to accept the impossible when no other choice presented itself.

  IX

  Doppelganger was not surprised or displeased to wake up covered in hay on the dirt floor of a barn in what he had previously thought to be an imaginary land. He judged it was afternoon based on the angle of the sun.

  He heard Nerdraaage before he saw him. He leaned up on his shoulders and saw him in the corner of the stable, snoring loudly.

  Doppelganger rose, dusted off the more prominent pieces of hay, and took the main street back toward the Silent Woman. The narrow street was bustling with townspeople, and a flock of children ran out of the schoolhouse as a school bell sounded—a real clanging bell, not one of those shrill alarms he remembered from school.

  He was overcome by the smells of fresh food. He smelled smoked pork as he walked past the butcher and baking bread as he passed the baker. His stomach rumbled angrily, which was unusual. His old self had only ever wanted caffeine for breakfast.

  He saw Dangalf and Ashlyn at a back table of the Silent Woman. They greeted him exuberantly, and he noticed Dangalf fiddling with a deck of oversized cards as he joined them. Ashlyn fed seeds to their
pigeon.

  “We have come to the conclusion that we are not dreaming and we are truly in this magical world,” said Dangalf by way of greeting.

  “I’m thinking that might not be so bad,” said Doppelganger as he sat. Ashlyn brushed some straw from his back. “Not that we have any choice at this point.”

  Ashlyn whispered to the pigeon and held it out to Doppelganger. “Take Clay. Introduce yourself so that he can find you anywhere.”

  “Trust her,” said Dangalf.

  Doppelganger took the bird awkwardly and asked, “Why Clay?”

  “Clay pigeon,” answered Dangalf. Doppelganger only shook his head slightly, to which Dangalf replied, “I know, right?”

  “Shut up,” said Ashlyn.

  “Heroes, seekers, mercenaries, and adventurers, good morning!” bellowed Nerdraaage upon entering the inn. He marched over to his friends. “Innkeeper! Wine all around!” Nerdraaage sat down roughly on the bench, and Doppelganger handed him the pigeon. “Can I at least get him cooked?”

  “No!” shouted Ashlyn as she took the bird back. She whispered to it while glaring at Nerdraaage.

  “What are you saying?” demanded Nerdraaage. “What is she saying?”

  “I don’t know,” said Dangalf. “But you might want to start wearing a hat.”

  “Sweet deck,” Nerdraaage said grabbing Dangalf’s cards.

  “No!” shouted Dangalf as he grabbed the deck back. “Page one of the instructions, and I quote, ‘Do not let others touch the cards until they are fully attuned to you.’”

  “A divination deck,” said Nerdraaage solemnly. Tolliver brought over the wine, and they ordered food.

  “So what did that deck cost?” asked Doppelganger.

  “Eighty farthing.”

  “Eighty farthing! That was for training and gear!”

  “This is gear for a mage.”

  “You never had a divinity deck in the game.”

  “There was only one time in the game that I came across the traveling salesman who sold divinity decks, and I always regretted not buying it when I had the chance. I didn’t want to make that mistake in this world. This could save our lives. And since we only seem to get one life here, it might be worth eighty measly farthing.”