Red Rowan: Book 4: The Dwarf Moot by Gosney Helen

Author:Gosney, Helen [Gosney, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-01-31T05:00:00+00:00

31. “Cows?”

Rowan rode into the g’Hakken village to cheers and shouts that faded into near-silence as the dwarves saw what was following him so quietly. They knew he was a Whisperer, knew too that he didn’t like to make a big fuss about it, but even so it could be truly startling at times.

Master Smiths Finn and his son Dann hurried out of the smithy to greet him and stopped so quickly that they nearly fell over each other.

“What the bloody hell are those things, Rowan?” Finn managed, “And what are they doing… er, here?”

Rowan smiled at him as he dismounted.

“And a good day to you both, too,” he said. He looked around at the little herd of animals that’d followed him for so far. “These things? They’re cows, Finn. Oh, and the bigger one with the… er…” he glanced at the wide-eyed children staring at the animals and hastily amended what he’d nearly said. He didn’t want any dwarven mothers chewing his ear about leading their precious offspring into bad habits. “The bigger one with the horns is a bull. I thought the clan might like them…”

The g’Hakken kept goats and a few sheep, pigs, ducks and chickens and of course their very fine herd of ponies. But Rowan knew that Toren, the dwarf in charge of all the beasts, had long coveted these particular little beasties. They weren’t easy to come by, though, and Rowan had been fortunate to have been in the right place at the right time to acquire some.

Finn was still looking at him as if he’d gone mad.

“Cows? But… but… cows are huge bloody great things, aren’t they?” he said.

Rowan nodded happily.

“Mmm… well, aye, usually they are. But these ones aren’t.”

They certainly weren’t. They were about the size of the g’Hakkens’ ponies, but they were undeniably cattle: perfectly proportioned miniature cattle with soft, creamy-fawn coloured hides, darker fawn legs and fly-swatter tails, and big, brown, absurdly long-lashed eyes.

Toren hurried up to them, his eyes shining.

“Rowan! How the hell did you get these? The g’Lerran guard them with their bloody lives. Gods, I’ve been trying for I don’t know how cursed long to… oh, and ‘tis good to see you again, laddie…” his voice trailed away as he drank in the sight of the little herd. He stepped forward and offered his hand to the nearest cow. She snuffled at it carefully, then licked it, batted her eyelashes at him flirtatiously, and moved a bit closer so that he could pat her better. Toren suddenly found himself surrounded by many inquisitive little cows.

“They’re very gentle, friendly little beasties, Toren. I don’t think they’ll give you any trouble. Even the little bull is good-natured,” Rowan said.

“But, Rowan, how the hell did you…?” Toren said as he busily patted the rest of the herd and inspected them at the same time.

“Well, I didn’t have to sell the next seven generations into slavery or pledge my soul to some sort of horrible warty Evil Daemon, if that’s what

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