Free Melforger (The Melforger Chronicles) by David Lundgren Page A

wide to adjust to the darkness, and after a few seconds he found himself standing in what seemed to be, for all intents and purposes, a covered porch to someone’s home. He moved further forwards and saw a doorway leading inside, so he crept through it. There was an odd smell he had never encountered before. An acrid smell, vaguely floral, but sharp. Intrigued, he edged his head around the corner to peek inside.
    It was a mess. There was a small candle set in the corner of the room which gave off enough light to illuminate the shambles inside. Containers were strewn everywhere and clothes were lying all over the damp mossy floor. And there, slumped over on a leather bag, was an obese forester with a bushy orange beard that curled out from his cheeks in great knotted tangles. As Raf watched, he held a small pipe to his mouth, sucked the end and then coughed. The strange smell was obviously coming from the pipe.
    It had to be Bhothy, of course. Everyone knew about the Foreman’s banished cousin, but no one ever saw him or had anything to do with him; it was strictly forbidden. And he’d been living here just a few miles south of the village all this time? Apparently all he’d been doing was eating. Raf had never seen a stomach like that on a forester! He shuffled sideways to get a better view but felt his foot slide on the slick mossy floor, knocking into a small table.
    “What?” shouted the man spinning around. “Wh’sat? Who’s there?”
    Raf twisted desperately to back out of the doorway, but as he moved, both feet slipped on the damp moss again, and he lost his balance, stumbling over to crash headfirst against the wall. There was a sharp wave of crushing pain through his head before everything went black.

 
 
 
10 . DHOLAKI
     
     
     
    “W hat to do, what to do…” Cough. “Stupid kid.”
    Raf slowly came to. He lifted his head up and saw the man sitting on the same bag as before, puffing away at the pipe. He was rocking backwards and forwards, staring at the floor.
    “Um…” he mumbled, “excuse me, but… aren’t you Bhothy?”
    “Who’s asking?”
    “Raf. Raf Gency.”
    “Tarvil’s boy?” The man snorted in irritation. “Just what I need. A Council cub sniffing around, trying to kill himself.” He shook his head from side to side and then took another long drag on the pungent pipe. “I am Bhothy.”
    He exhaled thick smoke up into the air. The smell made Raf feel a bit nauseous, and his head wobbled a bit. The man looked at him, eyes bloodshot, and held out the smoldering pipe. “Want some?” He suddenly giggled. “Course not. Wouldn’t be prudent for a Council boy.” 
    He stared at Raf, eyebrows lifted high on his head, and then made a squeaking noise as he tried to hold in another bout of giggling but failed. He ended up wheezing violently and coughing into his arm sleeve. Then he turned back to Raf and, wrinkling his nose up, said in a husky voice, “You take it down wrong, you cough your lungs up.”
    Raf stared at him; the man was mad. “Are you all right?”
    “All right?” snapped the man, “Am I all right?” He put his fingers to his chin in a dramatically thoughtful pose. “Now that you mention it, I’m just wonderful thank you. The only human I’ve spoken to, other than you of course, in over ten years is my marvelous cousin Eliath; a bit of a serious fellow, if you get my drift. And now you, who come stumbling in here and almost give me a blimmin’ heart attack.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”
    “Didn’t mean to?” Bhothy scoffed. “How can you not mean to come poking your nose around this forbidden area? It is still forbidden, right?”
    “I didn’t know I was near here. Yesterday, there was… well, something happened and I went for a walk.”
    “Oooh, a walk,” mocked Bhothy.
    “Yes, a walk,” replied Raf in irritation. “I thought I heard talking so I came to see who it was. Only, because you obviously don’t ever clean the floor, the