Hatta walked into the town of Shey’s Orchard at the time in the morning when it’s impossible to tell the difference between what the eyes see and what the mind perceives.  For Hatta, it was little different than any other time of day.


            Change was uncomfortable, agonizing sometimes, but he couldn’t stay in Frenala.  And T’lai hadn’t been an option after his brother left.


            The rhythmic sound of gravel distracted him from what lay ahead in the new town.


            Crunch, crunch.  Crunch, crunch.


            A merchant startled him with a casual ‘good morning’.  Hatta smiled genially, nodded, and pulled the brim of his traveling hat down.  By the time it returned to its natural position he was past the store.


            The inn was easy to find.  Even an illiterate could recognize the sign with a bed and dinner bowl.


            A stocky man was dusting an oak shelf in the front room and whistling when Hatta slipped in.  The tune was Dipping Dipping Caterwauler, and Hatta sang along softly.  The man didn’t notice until Hatta broke into a pleasant harmony.


            “Well hello then.  I didn’t hear you come in.”


            “And thanks be for that,” said Hatta, “or you may have stopped the whistle sooner.”


            “I’m Tellef.”


            “Hatta, Sir, and pleased to be meeting you.”  He smiled briefly.  “I’ll be in need of a room and some boarding please.”


            “You won’t find finer lodging anywhere in Shey’s Orchard.”  The stocky man chuckled and smiled warmly.  “Of course, this being the only inn, you’re unlikely to find poorer lodging either.”


            What a delightful man to meet as his first friend in a new town!


            A young man entered carrying firewood under both arms.  Eighteen? wondered Hatta.  Nineteen?  A couple years younger than Hatta, in any case.  With a strong underbite he had a surly look, like a bulldog with the countenance to match. 


            “Brune, make sure the first room upstairs is ready for our guest before you bring in the rest of the tinder.”


            Brune nodded, then oomphed as he dropped the wood into a rack.  He looked over Hatta with open derision.


            “How do?” Hatta asked.  He started to extend his hand but drew it back.  Brune’s scrutiny made his feet want to squirm and he stared at them so they’d remain still. 


            His purple boots always made him smile.  What was more wonderful than purple leather?  The color complemented his double-thick, blue cotton pants.  Not many people wore blue clothes, or purple for that matter.  Hatta’s garish clothing usually put people in an easy mood.  The extra attention it drew was offset by the positive response.  And he was always dressed well enough for occasions of any formality.


            But he had no idea how to charm people who despised him from the first glance.  Luckily, when he looked up from his boots the boor was gone.


            “How long will you be staying?” asked the innkeep. 


            “Longer than a short visit and shorter than a long time.”  His smile came more naturally now that it was just him and his friend.  From a pocket inside his maroon coat he took out approximately half his coins.  “Will this cover until I find a more permanent domicile?”  The coins were mostly coppers, but there were a few silvers as well.


            “With coin to spare.  I’ll see that what’s left over is returned when you leave.”


            “And perchance would you know of work to be had?  I’m an assiduous worker, it means I work hard.”  Another smile so the innkeep didn’t think him supercilious.


            “If that’s the case you’ve arrived at a fortunate time.  Aker’s daughter is to be married tomorrow and he’ll need someone to replace her in the mirror shop.”  The innkeep told him where to find the mirror maker.


            “I’m obliged for the advice.  By your leave I’ll get settled then.”


            Before returning to his dusting, Tellef said, “It’s a pleasure having such a fine lad in Shey’s Orchard.  I’m at your order.”


            When Hatta reached the top of the stairs, Brune was closing the door to the first room.  “So are you supposed to be some kind of minstrel or traveling jester?” Brune demanded, looking over his attire with obvious disdain.


            “No,” answered Hatta feeling tense.  If there was an introduction he could give that might befriend Brune, Hatta didn’t know it.


            Brune didn’t speak, just continued to stare so Hatta added, “I care for colors quite a bit.”


            Hatta stepped aside as Brune stalked past muttering under his breath, “This tweedle has coin to travel the kingdom while I’m stuck here…”


            Finally in his room, Hatta was able to relax.  The innkeep’s confrontational helper would make his stay uncomfortable, but there weren’t any other options in Shey’s Orchard.  He situated his bag at the foot of the cot then sat down on the floor with his legs crossed. 


            “Cooper, cooper amity scale. 

            Tressora, tressora cogburn and pail.

            If you cross targus to skitter to glide;

            Firewind and water, and gentle abide.”


            The nonsense verse cleared his road weariness and buoyed his spirits.  After repeating it thrice, Hatta sprang to his feet and retrieved his green-checkered town hat.  The greens were identical to his traveling hat, but the pattern was more stable.  More suited to spending some time in a single place.  Setting it just right, Hatta ventured into the awakening town. 


            As with other small towns, people greeted him warmly enough.  Most either raised an eyebrow or stared openly after he passed.  No one was aggressive or demeaning and the street was a little brighter in his wake.  On the second street he found a group of children playing with a kickround.  Hatta joined in naturally and helped each team score points before seeking out Master Aker.


            The mirror shop’s doors were closed, but the adjacent house was bustling.  One woman, carrying dark blue flowers, passed without acknowledging him.  Hatta didn’t want to interrupt, so he followed her into the house. 


            In the modest home the activity centered on a young lady in a pure white dress.  The lack of color did not appeal to Hatta, but she looked absolutely radiant.  Women surrounded her, trying various flowers in her hair, around her neck, on her wrists.  A man in the far corner noticed him and approached.


            Before the man could speak, Hatta said, “That’s the only exquisite shade of white I’ve seen.  I prefer bright colors, but the person who made that fabric is quite an artist.  What would it be?”


            “It’s linen.  Are you a tailor?”  The man inspected Hatta’s attire without openly staring.


            “No, but I care for artistry in any form.”


            “Yes, I see that.  I don’t recognize you; are you here to help with the preparations for the wedding?”


            For a moment Hatta forgot why he was in the man’s house staring at the young lady’s dress.  The whiteness held him transfixed.  “No I, I just arrived in town.  I’m pleased to introduce myself.  Hatta.”  He smiled and made a half bow.


            The man appeared perplexed, which set Hatta at ease.  At least I’m not the only one.


            “My name’s Aker, I’m the—”


            “Yes of course!  Master Aker, mirror maker.  Rhyming helps me remember, but doesn’t always work.”


            An almost imperceptible smile softened Master Aker’s face.


            “I’m a very hard worker and I learn quickly.  I have seventeen skills, but mirror making isn’t one of them.”


            “If you’re asking for work that’s an odd way to do it.”


            Hatta was sure he’d already mentioned employment.  “Yes, I am.  Asking for employment, that is.  Not odd.  The innkeep with the wooden shelf mentioned your
daughter’s wedding and so forth, and so forth.  Telf, or Tellef.  Yes, that was his name.”


            Master Aker’s smile widened.  With a nervous glance at the women, he whispered, “I’ve sworn to not even talk about the shop for the next two days, but come by the day after.  I’ll give you work for at least a couple days until I see what you can do.”


            “I’ll be very appreciative and you’ll be undisappointed.  Or delighted, I should say.”


            He extended his hand and was relieved when Master Aker accepted his grasp.  After one more glance at the exquisitely white dress he walked out.


            Hatta spent the rest of the daylight getting to know the town.  He introduced himself to the most approachable people and smiled and tipped his town hat to the rest.  The bakers, Coles and Hettie—rolls and bready to remember them—provided a warm lunch and more information than he could ever remember.  If he tried to recall half of what they told him it would just come out jumbled. 


            Other than the bakers’ names, Hatta tried to absorb three things.  Tjaden jousted Jabberwocky.  Talex’s tools are only for fools.  And stay far away from bandersnatches; two had been seen near town over the last year or so.  He shouldn’t need a trick to remember that one.


            By the time Hatta returned to the inn the sun had set and the air turned chilly.  He could see his breath in the air and stood outside studying it.  The ability to produce mist with something as simple as breath fascinated him every time.  When he breathed on his fingers he half expected them to freeze in the frosty breath, but it was surprisingly warm.   He picked up a twig and tried freezing it, but the wood remained supple.  Another puzzle to figure out.


            As he reached for the door a bout of laughter erupted inside the inn.  It must be a popular place on these nippy evenings.


            It wasn’t just busy, it was overflowing.  Hatta barely had room to enter.  The handful of tables were crowded and twice as many men stood as sat.  The room was warm, though no fire was lit.  In front of the empty fireplace stood two young men, a couple years younger than Hatta.  There were always men of that age in the inn, it seemed.


            The shorter one had an arm around his stout, blushing friend and a bow over his shoulder with the string crossing his chest.  He seemed not to notice the large weapon.  The story he told about his companion’s soldier training had the attention of the whole room. 


            Hatta excused himself quietly through the throng and had almost reached the safety of the stairs when the innkeep with the shelf—Tellef, that was it—put his arm around him.


            “Won’t you join us, Hatta?  Tjaden’s the lad I said was to be married and we could use more help celebrating.”


            “I’m obliged for the invitation, but if it’s no trouble I’ll just go up to my room.”


            “Nonsense!  I insist.”  He forced a tankard into Hatta’s hand. 


            Offending the kind innkeep seemed worse than escaping the raucous crowd, so he didn’t resist.


            “Perchance would you have tea?” he asked Tellef.  “Spirits tend to affect me rather strongly.”


            “Aye,” said Tellef, and waved to Brune.


            Hatta had no trouble recalling Brune’s name.  It seemed it was always that way after a confrontation, no matter how small.    


            Tellef said something to Brune, who nodded and pushed his way toward the kitchen’s swinging doors.  Hatta followed so Brune wouldn’t have to navigate the crowd again, and found himself at the back of the room.  The evening would be easier to bear in this inconspicuous spot.


            When Brune came out of the kitchen with a teacup, Hatta tapped him from behind.  Brune politely offered the cup and said, “This is a local tea.  What do you think of it?”


            Hatta blew on the tea to test the heat and managed a sip.  It was strong orange and mint, not a very pleasing flavor, with a kick he hadn’t tasted in other teas.  Brune waited expectantly.


            “I find it…unique,” said Hatta, forcing a smile.


            “I’m glad you like it.  I’ll prepare another cup when I have a chance.”  He returned the smile and returned to his duties.  The tea was unsavory, and it burned a little even after it cooled.  But at least it helped smooth whatever problem Brune had with him earlier, so he sipped at it.


            Just as he was finishing the first cup, Brune appeared with another.  Hatta tried to act appreciative.  He didn’t dare refuse and risk offending Brune just as they were starting to get along.


            The fellow with the bow finished talking and more men followed, both praising and embarrassing Tjaden.  The Jabberwocky was mentioned repeatedly, and Hatta longed to find out more about the creature.


            Brune, standing by Hatta, said, “Would you like to know some of the traditions here in Shey’s Orchard?”


            Hatta’s head was spinning from the distance traveled, the busy day meeting new people and the large gathering in the inn.  He was glad to have some guidance and nodded anxiously.  Minor conflicts arose sometimes due to ignorance of local customs.


            “It’s customary for the men in town to offer a gift to the betrothed on the night before the wedding.  It starts with the person who is least familiar with the man of honor and continues through the group until his closest friends and family present him with their gifts.  Since you just arrived today, everyone is probably waiting for you so they can start.”  He looked at the teacup and Hatta forced a long drink.


            “I’ve come unprepared.  What sort of gift would be customary?”  Hatta was definitely in a muddle and glad to have Brune to guide him.


            “Articles of clothing are perfect.  Tjaden’s a soldier, so I know he likes blue.”  Someone motioned for more ale and Brune excused himself.


            Blue, thought Hatta.  He cares for blue. 

            He set down his almost empty teacup and looked himself over slowly.  His head was spinning and he had to concentrate.  The only blue clothes he wore were his pants. 


            How fortunate there are no ladies present this evening.


            Hatta knelt and unlaced his boots.  He emptied his pants pockets, placing a marigold, a spool of saffron thread, a purple string, and an assortment of colored pebbles in various pockets of his coat.  Using the shoulders of the men he passed to steady himself, he pushed through the crowd to the front of the room. 


            A man who looked like a much older version of Tjaden, perchance his father, was speaking.  He stopped when Hatta approached, and the room as a whole watched Hatta, waiting. 


            They must be anxious to start giving their gifts.


            “I congratulate your impending wedding, Jabberslayer.” 


            Did his speech sound slurred?  The jumble in his head was thicker than usual.  Everyone watched curiously, probably wondering what he would offer as a gift.  He fumbled at the laces of his trousers, managed to remove them and offered them to Tjaden.  The young man accepted them, but apparently didn’t know what to say.


            Having fulfilled his responsibility, Hatta, in his striped socks and red undergarments, walked toward the stairs.  The crowd began sniggering, and it grew into open laughing by the time Hatta reached the foot of the stairs.


            Brune stood there, suppressing a smile.


            “I thank you, Brune.  Your advice surely saved me from looking the fool.”  He meant to say it quietly, but it came out loud enough for most of the room to hear.


            Before Hatta stepped onto the first stair, the innkeep—what was his name again?  Something to do with a ledge or bookshelf—said, “Wait!”


            He tramped toward Hatta and Brune, face as red as a…a….Something was definitely wrong in his head.  The innkeep’s angry face made Hatta’s stomach knot and he felt like vomiting.  The angry man stormed up to Brune and demanded in a quiet but terrible voice, “Did you put him up to this?”


            Brune shrunk and looked around for someone to rescue him.  But he stood alone.  “I was just trying to liven up the party.  Have a little fun.”


            The innkeep swore, forcing Hatta to lean against the wall and Brune to cringe. 


            “I didn’t think he’d be idiot enough to take off his pants.”  Brune’s words shot across the silent room. 


            The innkeep stormed to the kitchen door and picked up Hatta’s cup.  He sipped it and swore twice.  Each curse struck Hatta like a blow.


            “And you put orange liqueur in his tea!”  He slammed his fist into the table, rattling tankards.  “Get out!  Get out!  I tried to help you because your father’s worthless, and this is how you repay me?”


            He was moving toward Brune, but the young man didn’t wait to be tossed.  Before Brune reached the door Hatta spoke up.  “No.”

Brune froze then turned.  A puzzled expression showed on his face.


            “Please not on my account,” said Hatta to the innkeep.  “Most likely it was all in fun.  Please.”

            
             Brune wore a hopeful expression, a puppy trying to avoid being sent into the cold night.


            All eyes were on the innkeep, not so much as a muffled belch breaking the silence.  His face returned to a normal color as he looked between Brune and Hatta. 


            After a dozen or more breaths he shook his head and said, “No.  I can’t forgive this.  On your way, Brune.”  He pointed at the door but didn’t watch the departing young man.


            Hatta would never forget the sound of the slamming door.  Tears came to his eyes and he held his stomach in hopes of keeping his gorge down.  “I’m sorry, Jabberslayer.”  He swallowed back the sick.  “I’m sorry, townsmen.  It was the last thing I wanted.”  Any more words would give way to the vomit. 


            As he turned to climb the stairs, he heard.  “No, it’s alright.  I’ll see to him.”


            In another step the innkeep was under one arm, providing a steady shoulder on the difficult stairs.


            “Master Hatta, I hope you’ll accept my apologies.  You never should have been subjected to that.”


            The last thing Hatta cared about was himself.  “And Brune?  Does he have where to go?  What about the Jabberslayer and his ruined celebration?”  He couldn’t control the hot tears that ran down his face.


            “Don’t worry about Tjaden, he’s been through much worse than that.”  Somehow there was a smile in the innkeep’s voice, but it faded in the next sentence.  “And as for Brune, he has a history of cruelty.  I’ve given him too many chances and it’s time for him to learn a lesson.  Anyone in town would agree with me.”


            Not me.  But Hatta wasn’t about to make another enemy by arguing.  This night was already the worst Hatta could remember.


            The innkeep helped him into bed.  “I’ll get your trousers and leave them outside your door.  You’re not Brune’s first victim.  Tomorrow will be a new day.” 


            Hatta just nodded.  As soon as Tellef was gone he staggered to the chamber pot and threw up.  The tea burned again coming back up, but his gut felt better.


            The best thing for him was sleep, but Hatta was too tense.  Even the alcohol wasn’t enough to soothe him.  He tried reciting verses, but the words scrambled in his head.  He spent an hour rocking on the edge of his bed.  The room had a small window and eventually he stood and watched the men file out, many clinging to each other for support. 


            At least the entire celebration wasn’t ruined.


            He cringed as he recognized some of the men who had witnessed the confrontation.  Rolls, no, Coles the baker.  Master Aker mirror maker.  And eventually Tjaden the Jabberslayer and his bow-carrying companion.  It was a good thing Tjaden was so stable because he practically had to drag his friend down the road.


            The road cleared, the lights went out, but Hatta remained at the window, staring into the moonlit street.  Some time later, hours perhaps, a silhouette came into view.  Hatta straightened when he realized it was Brune.  He had a bag slung over his shoulder and was heading out of town.  He wore a plain coat and hat, and his bag was bulky enough to hold a blanket.  At least he wouldn’t freeze, even if the weather turned colder. 


            Brune didn’t look at the inn as he passed.  His head hung and he trudged along with shoes that slapped against the dirt road.  Hatta wondered why they were so loud and looked more closely.  The soles were loose, and even in the moonlight Hatta saw that Brune wore no socks.  Each step revealed bare heels.


            Without hesitation Hatta ran to his door and threw it open.  His boots and blue trousers were situated neatly in front of him.  He put the pants on as fast as possible, tying them hurriedly, and picked up his fine leather boots, then ran down the stairs and into the street.


            A cloud blocked the moonlight and some of the stars, so Hatta could see very little.  Even at his quick pace, his besocked feet made almost no sound.  Just after passing the last building in town he heard the pa-fwap, pa-fwap, pa-fwap of Brune’s worn out shoes.  He slowed to an unhurried jog, silently following the sound.


            When Brune’s outline came into view, Hatta stopped and set his purple boots in the middle of the road.  He reached into his coat and took out four coppers, placing two in each boot.  He retreated a couple dozen paces toward the town and took cover in the mesquite trees that lined the road. 


            Once he was situated he yelled, “Brune!”


            The faint shoe sound stopped and Hatta yelled again.


            “Who’s there?”


            Hatta remained silent and the sound resumed, more slowly but growing closer.


            “Who is it?”


            Pa-fwap, pa-fwap, pa-fwap.


            “I’m warning you, this is not a good time to bugger with me!”


            Brune came into view and reached the boots.  After staring at them for a moment, he kicked them as if expecting a viper to emerge.  He looked around and asked, “Where are you?”


            Silence.


            Brune picked up the boots and Hatta heard the coins jingle.  He saw Brune reach into the boots but couldn’t make out the expression on his face, so he imagined a genuine smile.  And maybe a slight nod of appreciation.  After unlacing his worn out shoes, Brune removed them and put the boots on.    


            After rubbing dirt over the purple, Brune looked around, cleared his throat and said quietly, “Thank you.” 


            The purple boots had done it!  Properly shod, Brune walked into the darkness.


            Hatta tried counting fifty breaths, but got confused, so he focused on the faint mists for a while.  Confident he was alone, he stood and walked in the opposite direction with a whistle on his lips. 


            Hatta had nothing but good feelings for his fellow men, and they for him.  The dark night held a bright yellow tinge of hope.  All was right in the world.





             

Follow Daniel on Twitter or send a comment through the 'Contact' for updates on the release of Hatter.