lapping dog….
Lapping dog! Tika groaned and hurried out from behind the
bar.
“Raf!” she exclaimed, staring at the gully dwarf in despair.
“Beer spill. Me mop up,” he said, looking at her and cheer-
fully wiping his hand across his mouth.
Several of the old-time customers laughed, but there were a
few, new to the Inn, who were staring at the gully dwarf in dis-
gust.
“Use this rag to clean it up!” Tika hissed out of the corner of
her mouth as she grinned weakly at the customers in apology.
She tossed Raf the bar rag and the gully dwarf caught it. But he
only held it in his hand, staring at it with a mystified expres-
sion.
“What me do with this?”
“Clean up the spill!” Tika scolded, trying unsuccessfully to
shield him from the customer’s view with her long, flowing
skirt.
“Oh! Me not need that,” Raf said solemnly. “Me not get nice
rag dirty.” Handing the cloth back to Tika, the gully dwarf got
down on all fours again and began to lick up the spilled beer,
now mingled with tracked-in mud.
Her cheeks burning, Tika reached down and jerked Raf up
by his collar, shaking him. “Use the rag!” she whispered furi-
ously. “The customers are losing their appetites! And when
you’re finished with that, I want you to clear off that big table
near the firepit. I’m expecting friends -” Tika stopped.
Raf was staring at her, wide-eyed, trying to absorb the com-
plicated instructions. He was exceptional, as gully dwarves go.
He’d only been there three weeks and Tika had already taught
him to count to three (few gully dwarves ever get past two) and
had finally gotten rid of his stench. This new-found intellectual
prowess combined with cleanliness would have made him a
king in a gully dwarf realm, but Raf had no such ambitions. He
knew no king lived like he did – “mopping up” spilled beer (if
he were quick) and “taking out” the garbage. But there were
limits to Raf’s talents, and Tika had just reached them.
“I’m expecting friends and -” she started again, then gave
up. “Oh, never mind. Just mop this up – with the rag,” she
added severely, “then come to me to find out what to do next.”
“Me no drink?” Raf began, then caught Tika’s furious glare.
“Me do.”
Sighing in disappointment, the gully dwarf took the rag back
and slopped it around, muttering about “waste good beer.”
Then he picked up pieces of the broken mugs and, after staring
at them a moment, grinned and stuck them in the pockets of his
shirt.
Tika wondered briefly what he planned to do with them, but
knew it was wiser not to ask. Returning to the bar, she grabbed
some more mugs and filled them, trying not to notice that Raf
had cut himself on some of the sharper pieces and was now
leaning back on his heels, watching, with intense interest, the
blood drip from his hand.
“Have you… uh… seen Caramon?” Tika asked the gully
dwarf casually.
“Nope.” Raf wiped his bloody hand in his hair. “But me know
where to look.” He leaped up eagerly. “Me go find?”
“No!” snapped Tika, frowning. “Caramon’s at home.”
“Me no think so,” Raf said, shaking his head. “Not after sun
go down -”
“He’s home!” Tika snapped so angrily that the gully dwarf
shrank away from her.
“You want to make bet?” Raf muttered, but well under his
breath. Tika’s temper these days was as fiery as her flaming
hair.
Fortunately for Raf, Tika didn’t hear him. She finished filling
the beer mugs, then carried the tray over to a large party of
elves, seated near the door.
I’m expecting friends, she repeated to herself dully. Dear
friends. Once she would have been so excited, so eager to see
Tanis and Riverwind. Now… She sighed, handing out the
beer mugs without conscious awareness of what she was doing.
Name of the true gods, she prayed, let them come and go
quickly! Yes, above all, go quickly! If they stayed… If they
found out….
Tika’s heart sank at the thought. Her lower lip trembled. If