Chapter 7

“Intern, you look a little ragged around the edges,” Jack said, as bent over the platter of scrambled eggs. He sniffed them just to be sure they were eggs and nothing else had been added. “The eggs are good this morning.”

“I don’t know whether to bless you or curse you,” Intern said. “Half the evening is fuzzy and I’m having trouble remembering it. The other half is unforgettable. If I did not believe there is a greater power in the universe before I came here, I am a true believer this morning. God have mercy on my soul because my body is broken.”

“Go easy on the God talk,” Jack said in a soft voice. “What humans say about God in our lands is an entirely different set of expectations than talking about the gods with the folk. They strung up and eviscerated the last missionaries who came here to convert the heathen.”

“Like gutted them?” Intern asked.

“This is not a conversation to have over breakfast. Eat a full breakfast because we may miss lunch today. We have a full list of chores this morning and we are leaving the campus.”

“It’s my second day,” Intern said. “Hatha wouldn’t let me rest until, I dunno, not too many hours ago. Can’t we do office work, in a nice, quiet, removed office?”

“Contract negotiations resume in the back offices today,” Jack said. “Both sides are a little heated and you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire. There is sure to be a lot of vitriol thrown across the table.”

“Oi, look who it is, the assistant chief oppressor and his new minion,” a hobbit shouted from the doorway.

“Save it for the boardroom, Augie,” Jack yelled back. “Your mother is going to be so embarrassed at your lack of manners she is going to slap you back to last Sunday.”

“Mentioning my mother is fighting words,” Augie said.

“Mentioning your mother is calling on a higher authority, Augie, and no one is impressed with your ... shenanigans,” Jack said. “Grab a plate and join us for breakfast or go pace the hallway like a half-crazed troll with erectile disfunction. Second point, Augie, he is not a minion, he is an intern.”

“Oo, the poor bastard,” Augie said. “What terrible crime did he commit in your lands to get banished here under your employment? Is it safe to be around him?”

“He’s on a leash,” Jack said. “Hatha collared him last night.”

“Ai, he’s a poor bastard but a lucky one too,” Augie said, grabbing a plate. “What I wouldn’t give to have Hatha collar me. Have you seen those wobblies?”

“Quiet office, Jack? Please?”

Jack ignored the plea and chose a seat in the middle of the room. He was soon surrounded by half a dozen women who all had to share what they did last night. Jack kept half an eye on Intern who listened quietly, cycling between deathly white and blushing red as the women recounted their various liaisons and conversations of the previous evening.

When Jack mentioned that the bread had a special zest to it, the conversations shifted to bread recipes. Intern visibly relaxed. Jack followed up with questions as he tried to identify the herb the chef had used. The two elves were debating whether it was one herb or another while one of the orcs was convinced it was powdered penis bone of one of the local mammals.

“We can always ask the chef,” Jack volunteered, only to be shot down with groans of dismay and a salient curse about his lack of intelligence. Jack turned to Intern, “Remember, we do not ask the chef questions. The only way we talk to the chef is to yell at him. It helps if you have something heavy in your hand to throw at him at the same time. The louder you yell, the better he cooks.”

“The chef is a prima donna?” Intern asked.

“No,” Spin said, twirling her fork in her hand. “He’s a half-blind, maniacal, failed Thuringian shepherd whose wife ran him out of the village after she caught him fucking a village auroch. His defense was the beast was better in bed than his wife. With his standing among his fellows lower than dried semen under the floorboards, he took the only job no one else wants, cooking for humans.”

“A fine chef he is, too,” Jack said, stabbing a last bite of cured meat that was slightly off-color. “The guests rave about his cooking, but we inform the chef that the guests are raving. Sets him back on task with glee almost every day.”

“Don’t turn your back on him and bend over when you are in the kitchen,” Estra said. “Consider it a precaution. There are no aurochs nearby and everyone has needs.”

“Good morning, Mr. Assyrtiko,” Jack said, calling halfway across the room.

“Hey, the chief oppressor has arrived,” Augie shouted.

“Save it for the boardroom, Mr. Steen,” the general manager hollered back. “Breakfast is a neutral zone unless you wish to change that designation. If you do, by and by, then your present contract is null and void, meaning we revert to standard corporate contract. What is your preference, Mr. Steen?”

“Top of the morning to you, captain,” Augie said. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you to the mess.”

“To you as well, Mr. Steen,” Mr. Assyrtiko said as he continued to choose food and pile it on his plate. He walked over to Jack’s table and sat next to Spin. “Ms. Oza, you are looking chipper this morning.”

“My mother is coming tomorrow to clarify my duties and my responsibilities, sir,” Spin said. “She hinted my first intended may be coming with her.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Assyrtiko said. “Jack, you are looking bright-eyed and eager this morning, but I daresay, your intern is a tad off-color.”

“I had an uninterrupted night’s sleep,” Jack said. “Intern was tested by one of Burpee-Do’s daughter’s last night. I’m happy he made it to breakfast.”

“Tested on the first day,” Mr. Assyrtiko mused. “The folk are moving faster. I had to wait some time, Intern, which means you should consider yourself most fortunate. You must be firm though, limiting the women’s agendas and need to create the magic, or you will never get enough sleep. Thankfully, someone steered Hollandaise, Mornay, and Remoulade to me because we do have a meeting of minds. What is on your agenda today, Jack?”

Jack sighed and sat back from the table. “I’ve got a stack of complaints concerning Ralph again. I’m going out there to have another talk with him after breakfast. I’m at the boundary line though. If I don’t get satisfactory answers and remediating actions from him, I will be forced to summon his aunt.”

All conversation ceased around the room. Jack looked up and smirked.

Augie arose from his seat and stalked over to the table. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Assyrtiko, I could not help overhearing the conversation. It would be in our mutual best interest to postpone our negotiations until Ralph’s aunt has departed.”

“Hardly,” Mr. Assyrtiko said. “I am not the one who cast aspersions upon the woman’s character. I find her personable, engaged, and charming for such an important person. I would consider her visit a great honor, no matter the circumstances and I am looking forward to it. I expect you and your crews to show her the same deference.”

“She eats hobbits for breakfast,” Augie said.

“I heard she only eats them with her afternoon cocktail,” Spin said.

“No, you heard wrong,” an elf at another table said. “They like hobbits for a late-night snack with a bitter ale. They call it a digestif.”