Hemming

By Erin E. McLeod

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A sliver of light broke the darkness. It widened as the door slowly opened. Granfeld watched from the darkness as the light brought life to the portraits hanging on the wall. They’d found him. He watched as a small elven woman entered the room. He knew what she was going to say. It was time. But he didn’t want to hear.
“Sire?”
Storm glanced around the room, waiting for her eyes to adjust. She watched as unicorns, dragons, mermaids, harpies, cats, and centaurs came into focus. And, there, an old troll. The only breathing creature in here besides herself. She approached him and placed a hand softly on his arm.
“Granfeld? Sir. You must come. At once.”
“It’s happened?”
“It’s happened. They’ve found us.”
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It is what they have always feared. Humans have found them. Thousands of years ago, the founders searched for sanctuary. A place where their kind could find safety from the burgeoning and destructive human population. A place where humans would never find them. They found an immense network of deep subterranean tunnels that span the entire globe and created a sanctuary where sentient creatures of all types live, protected from the scourge that is humanity for countless generations. Until now.

Evan, a human, is in a race against time. His family inherited an old Manse that came with a 250 year-old troll named Hemming who has lived in secret. Hemming and Evan are the best of friends. But Evan’s encounter with a school bully changes their relationship and puts Hemming’s life at risk. To save Hemming, Evan must embark on a mission that changes everything - for him, for Hemming and for the Underground.

Underground, Evan finds a complex society that is on the verge of civil war. Politically, the Underground is falling apart. The majority of the population is content staying hidden Underground and being ruled by the High Council, as it has always been, but another force is gaining power. The Alliance wants to declare war on the humans and retake topside. The only thing the denizens of the Underground can agree on is that humans do not belong in their world.

Hemming is a contemporary fantasy novel that follows Evan as he tries to convince the High Council to save his friend’s life. A fast paced novel that will intrigue the reader and keep them wanting more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin E. McLeod
• Release date: Aug 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476022628

Erin E. McLeod

Erin E. McLeod is an avid reader and firm believer that the book is always better than the movie. She lives in Northern Saskatchewan on an acreage with her husband and a variety of cats, dogs and horses. Not the flat, boring part of Saskatchewan but rather the lots of hills and trees part of Saskatchewan.

Book preview

HEMMING

Book 1 in The Basement Troll Series

Erin E. McLeod

Published by Erin E. McLeod

Smashwords Edition

Coyright 2012 Erin E. McLeod

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. If you would like to share this ebook, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book but did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

HEMMING, Book 1 of The Basement Troll Series

Table of Contents

Preface: In the beginning…

Chapter One: The Manse

Chapter Two: The Secret Gardener

Chapter Three: Halvard Speaks

Chapter Four: Open Mouth; Closed Mouth

Chapter Five: Lost and then found

Chapter Six: Tea with Hemming

Chapter Seven: The Circus

Chapter Eight: Hemmingbird

Chapter Nine: Home for a Rest

Chapter Ten: Breakfast with the Council

Chapter Eleven: Love will find a way

Chapter Twelve: Sir W.K.

Chapter Thirteen: Evan’s Part

Chapter Fourteen: Grave News

Chapter Fifteen: Iris Speaks

Chapter Sixteen: The Choice

Chapter Seventeen: The Tunnels

Chapter Eighteen: War is declared

Chapter Nineteen: Waiting

Chapter Twenty: Change

Preface

Preface

Hemming rushed through the trees.  He could feel the panic building up inside of him as a branch slapped him in the face.  The sunlight burned when it broke through the trees.  He forced himself to continue.

The Manse.  Make it home to the Manse.  Must make it to the Manse.

He held his hand over the gun-shot wound on his chest pushing Evan’s gym shirt into the wound as an attempt to slow the bleeding. He tried to be quiet and not lead the hunters to the Manse.  He consciously left a small trail for Evan to follow that was obscure and, hopefully, impossible to be seen by anyone not trained by him.

This was the second time he had managed to get himself shot.  The first time he had been alone and, while that shot had not been fatal, the  infection it brought had nearly killed him.  But good had come of that injury.  Good by the name of Buck.  A human that had protected him and his secret for years and given him a home.  

Hemming tripped over an old dead tree rotting on the forest floor.  Pain jarred through him as he landed on his shoulder  His hand fell away from the chest wound.  He could feel darkness trying to close in on him and fought to remain conscious.  Hemming fell to his knees and stuck the shirt back into the wound.  Evan.  Hemming didn’t know what it was about that boy.  But Hemming had needed to protect him.  He’d been driven to protect him.  Something had pushed him.  Instinct?  Maybe.

Hemming forced himself to stand up and continue.  Focused on the Manse instead of the pain.  Times had changed.  The first time, it was buckshot.  Today though, whatever had gotten him, felt like it had ripped a hole in his chest.  A big, big hole.  He forced himself to breathe.  He didn’t think he’d heal easily from this one.

Must make the Manse.

He was pretty sure he’d taken two bullets today.  The seething pain below his right knee was the first one.  It was deep and made walking difficult.  Painful but possible.  It wasn’t fatal.  Maybe only a glancing blow.  He’d survive that one.  The one in his chest was different.  It burned with a kind of sucking pain he’d never felt before.  And it scared him.

In two-hundred and fifty years, one got accustomed to things.  It took a lot to scare someone this old.  But, he had to admit, he was scared now.  He could feel himself getting cold.  Feel the darkness trying to take over.  Henri would be at the Manse.  Evan would have called.  Help would be there.  He just needed to make it.  He needed to get home.  To the Manse.

Through the trees, he could see the small creek that was the northern edge of the estate.  The Manse wasn’t far.  He froze before going out into the open along the creek edge.  He didn’t think anyone was following him.  But he hadn’t thought anyone had been in the bushes at the school either.  Whoever had been was an expert.

He listened and glanced from side to side.  His vision was narrowing and he had to concentrate.  In what was likely only seconds but felt like hours, Hemming ventured out of the cover of the trees.  

He crossed the creek and ran for home.  He stopped worrying about leaving a trail.  He was almost there.  Home free.  He felt a glimmer of hope as he saw the outline of the Manse.  He was going to make it.  He tripped again, staggered up, and continued up the hill.  As he got closer, he saw Ralph’s truck in the yard.

This was no good.  Ralph didn’t know about him.  Hemming felt panic surge up.  As desperately as he needed help, he still couldn’t risk it.  Couldn’t risk it.  If Ralph knew, he could change everything.  Change Hemming’s entire world.  He came to the old stables and leaned against the edge.  He stared at the Manse.  He couldn’t see Henri.

Hemming pushed down the panic.  He adjusted his impromptu bandage as he thought.  Evan would know.  Evan knew what had happened.  He’d follow the signs.  Evan would take care of him and get help. Evan wouldn’t abandon him.  

The darkness started closing in again.  Relentless, this time. He stepped out from the side of the stables and tried to find the door.  He’d find a place to rest.  To wait for Evan.  He tried to open the door but the pain was too much.  It overtook him.

Hemming fell to his knees and then onto his back.  He thought he heard voices.  Calling his name but he couldn’t move.  He watched helplessly as his vision disappeared and then he finally let the darkness claim him.  It pulled him down.  Down where there was no pain.  No worry. No fear.  He stopped fighting, and like a wave, felt himself wash away.

#

Evan couldn’t remember much about the last twelve hours or so.  It came back in flashes.  The sound of the gunshot.  The realization that Hemming had been hit.  Hurrying to get Hemming up and away from the school before anyone saw him.  The blood! Running to the school, oblivious to all others.  Calling his dad.  His mom.  Feeling helpless.  Following the trail Hemming had left.  Watching Hemming fall when he tried to open the door.  Yelling for his Dad.  The look on Ralph’s face when he saw Hemming.  

That one.  That one, Evan would remember.  Ralph had made jokes for years about the secret gardener or the resident ghosts at the Manse.  But he never knew the truth until right then.  And the look he got on his face.  Evan supposed it wasn’t everyday one got to meet someone like Hemming and find out he lived with your neighbours as a member of their family.  

They’d gotten Hemming to the Manse just as Hannah and Nisse arrived.  Evan hadn’t known Nisse was coming.  He would have been surprised if he’d had the time. Hemming was unconscious.  Nisse helped Hannah dress the wounds.  Then she pulled Henri aside.

Hemming needed more than first aid.  He needed a doctor and likely an operating room.  He needed more help than what was available Topside.  The decision had been made.  She would go Underground.  Evan was to stay and wait for her to return.  Henri and Nisse had hopped into the truck and took off.  Evan had hid in the back of the truck under an old tarp when they weren’t looking.  He wasn’t staying home.  He couldn’t just wait.  

Nisse had gotten out at the end of the trail.  It was still quite a walk to the tunnel opening.  Evan jumped out of the truck.  He thought his dad had seen him but he ran off before anything could be said.  He joined Nisse at the tunnel opening.  She tried to lecture him about danger and how worried his parents would be.  Evan charged ahead.  

Things fell apart here again.  Flashes.  Voices.  Pieces of things being said or done.  Evan lost all track of time.  

A human?  Here?

Kill him now.

No.  Nisse’s cool voice.  Take us to the High Council.  We need help.

You’ll hang for this, troll.  Him, too

Foolishness.

Council? They can’t save you now.

Not supposed to be here.  How is this possible?

From the North.  An unmonitored.

Harsh hands grabbed him.  Tied his hands and placed something over his head so he couldn’t see.  Forced him to walk.  And suddenly, Evan was made to stand in a dark room.  Large shadows and deep voices echoed throughout the room.  He tried to listen but nothing made sense.  Bits and pieces.  Nisse’s voice.

Hear him out.

Why?  Would they have done the same?

All I ask is you listen.

I say take him to the square.  Let all see what we do to humans here.

He is my friend.  I will share his fate.

You can’t.

I will.

The room settled down and then the voices began again.  This time aimed at him.

Chapter One

Chapter One

Mails here.  Hannah said loudly as she pushed open the door into their messy one-bedroom apartment.  She kicked her shoes under the table, picked up a plate with last night’s pizza crusts on it and emptied it into the garbage before setting the groceries on the table.

Oh. Hey! How’d it go? said a voice from in front of the TV.

Hannah placed the mail on the table where the plate used to be and rushed into the bathroom.   Fine. I guess.  The Doctor is doing some tests.

And?  Do they know why you’ve been so tired?

Not yet.  She thinks it might be stress.

Stress?  Henri picked himself up off the couch, shuffled over to the mail and began sorting through it.

She said she’d call as soon as knew anything definite.

OK

Hannah flushed the toilet, washed her hands and began straightening the bathroom.  She picked up her hairbrush and brushed her hair.  Her skin was pale and she felt exhausted all the time.  She looked at herself in the mirror and sighed heavily.  She really needed to lose the extra weight.

Hey.  What’s this?

What? said Hannah, putting the brush down and walking into the kitchen.  She began putting the groceries away.  She hated this kitchen.  It was dark and too small.

It’s a letter addressed to me.  Doesn’t look like junk mail.  Henri opened the letter and slid down the wall onto the floor.  Henri’s dark brown hair was always a mess, his t-shirt’s were perpetually wrinkled, always had holes in them, and usually had something dribbled down the front of them.  But Henri was comfortable with who he was.  He didn’t care how he looked or how much he weighed.  Hannah was kind of envious of that.

Who’s it from?

Lawyers from up north - in Claytonville.

Lawyers?  From where?  What did you do? Hannah listened with half an ear as she tidied up the dishes.  How was it possible for him to make such a mess in so little time?  She slammed the cupboard door.

Hey.  Remember my old Uncle Halvard?

No.  I didn’t know you had any uncles.

I don’t – didn’t - know him very well.  He wasn’t at our wedding.  Spent a summer with him when I was, umm, … eight, I guess.  He lived in this really big, old, isolated mansion that needed fixing up close to Claytonville.  He had a lot of cats.  I really liked him but Mom didn’t.  Thought he was weird.  He was Dad’s only brother, which explains why Mom didn’t like him.  So I only saw him once or twice after that summer - weddings or funerals.

Hannah paused in her cleaning.  

Didn’t know him?  Has he died?

Apparently. Last week.  He had no close family – no immediate family that I know of anyway.  He’s named me as his heir

#

And...and that is how it began.   Evan’s voice didn’t even sound like his.  It was thin, frail.  Full of fear.  Despite his best efforts to act brave.  Hemming needed him to pull it together.

Tell me about your father.  Your mother.  When they first met him. said a deep, gravelly voice from the shadows.

W-why does it matter?  We have to hurry.  He’s dying!!

Tell me about your father and mother. How they became involved.  The same voice.  It was calm.  When it talked it was as though time didn’t matter.  But time wasn’t something Evan felt he had.

I...I don’t really know.  I was too young.  I’ve heard the story but….

A deep growl came from his left.

"My fa…, my father first got involved when….

#

Henri was lying on the couch.  He was trying to watch an afternoon game but kept getting distracted by the water stains on the roof twelve feet above him.  It didn’t matter.  His team was losing anyway.   

Since he and Hannah had moved into the old mansion, Henri had trouble concentrating on any one thing for long.  There was so much to do, so little time and so little money.  He had about twenty projects or more started at any given time.  Jobs he thought would take minutes took weeks instead. So, he watched TV.

The mansion, or Manse, as his Uncle had always called it was an old plantation style home.  It was built out of wood and stone.  It had a large, rotting veranda which surrounded the entire house.  The veranda was sinking and pulling away from the rest of the house.  It desperately needed new lumber and a thick coat of paint.  The yard was maintained but lacked any flowers or imagination.  Inside, on the main floor, there was a large kitchen, two dining rooms, and the grandest entryway Henri had ever seen.  Two staircases descending into the foyer like something you’d expect to see Scarlet walking down.  The house also had another set of staircases in the back, likely for the servants.  Plus all sorts of nooks and crannies he hadn’t had time to check out yet.  Plus all the boxes and furniture that had been abandoned for years.

All of the Manse was run down but it had great bones.  Henri often lost himself in daydreams about how great it was going to look once it was all done.  He could envision the types of moldings he wanted, the new railings, the painted rooms.  See the pieces and how they’d need to be cut.  Lately, Henri was beginning to think he would never be able to complete it.  He had time but he didn’t have money.  And time wasn’t on his side.  The roof needed new shingles before the whole place rotted away.

Henri had left his construction job when they moved to the estate.  They had had nothing in savings and owed money to credit cards, lines of credits, car loans, student loans.  Halvard had left him everything - the house, the property, the cats, a couple old beat up vehicles that were well over thirty years old and a little money. What little money had been included had been eaten up by the lawyers, used for funeral expenses, moving expenses, and bills.  They’d had just enough left over to make the house somewhat inhabitable by Hannah’s standards.  

He still had trouble believing this was his house.  It all felt like a cliche movie.  Rich, long-lost relative leaves them everything including an old house that is hiding a secret.  Well, except for the rich part.  Or the secret part.  If there was a secret, the manse had yet to share it.  Part of Henri was scared that the real owners were going to show up and destroy his dreams.  Make him leave this place.  The other part of him wished they’d hurry up.  And then another part wished that the secret was bags and bags of money that would be revealed soon.

Having a new baby didn’t help matters much either.  Evan was now almost eight months old and still had trouble sleeping through the night.  He was the only part of Henri’s new life that didn’t need work.  He was a happy baby and didn’t cry a lot.  Unless, of course, Henri had just gotten into a deep sleep or began to work on a project.  The kid had impeccable timing.

Hannah’s real estate career was still in the beginning stages.  Claytonville had a few agents and even fewer clients.  It was a small, sleepy town where everyone knew everyone and no one ever locked their doors or took the keys out of their vehicles.  Another fitting addition to the movie cliche.  Henri and Hannah were new to town.  Claytonville didn’t get newcomers. Ever, it seemed.  The residents were friendly enough but slow to accept them.  Hannah spent most of her time commuting to bigger centers but that wasn’t very profitable.  She was ever hopeful that things were going to get better though.  She was as invested in this house as he was.  Henri really envied the optimistic streak in her.

Henri had given up his old job when they moved from the city, which was great because he had never really liked it anyway.  He was trained as carpenter but had worked as a contractor doing plumbing and electrical work as well.  Whatever he could get that would keep him interested.   

He considered himself a creative.  He was happiest when creating something - the medium didn’t really matter.  He dreamed of becoming independently wealthy - he just didn’t know how to do that yet.  His current strategy was the lottery.  Until then he was a stay-at-home Dad. A role he had never imagined himself in but one he found he really enjoyed.  

Henri and Hannah had been living in the city since they had gotten married two years ago.  Hannah had went to school to get her real estate license.  Henri had worked as an apprentice earning his journeyman’s in carpentry while working odd jobs on the weekends, trying to make ends meet. Something always happened when they got a little ahead.

Until he had received the letter, Henri had had no idea how they were going to pay the next month’s rent.  He had no jobs lined up. The letter couldn’t  have come at a better time. It almost felt as though they had been led - or perhaps pushed - into moving into the old mansion.

The manse had been built sometime in the 1700’s.  It had many rooms but Henri’s favourite was the one he was sitting in now.  The Great Room, as he called it, was an enormous room that had fireplaces at either end of it.  It wasn’t really great yet, more run down and dirty, but it was going to be great.  Someday.

Henri lay on the couch and daydreamed about what the room was going to look like.  He couldn’t decide if he wanted to paint it Harvard red or dark green, but thought maybe a warm yellow would work just as nice.  Something light and airy to relieve the heaviness that hung in the air.  Henri was lost in his daydream - now considering mauve - when the doorbell rang.  Henri jumped up and began the long expedition to the front door.

Hey, neighbour came a loud voice from through the screen door.  

It was Ralph, the next door neighbour.  Well – next door was stretching it.  The mansion was surrounded by a large estate of 600 some acres and was heavily wooded with several creeks and a river running through it.  Ralph was one their closest neighbours and fast becoming one of Henri’s best friends.  Henri opened the door and let Ralph in.  

Ralph was pushing fifty.  Life had been hard on Ralph.  He had done his time in the military. While there he had gotten into a fist fight or two and lost one of his front teeth.  He had a false one that he wiggled with his tongue when he was lost in thought.  He worked part time at the hardware store and farmed the rest of the time.  He spent a lot of his time and most of his money in restoring old automobiles.  His skin was leathery. His hands always stained with dirt and grease.  His hat perched on top his head, in typical farmer style, resting on peppery grey hair.     

Shhh, you’ll wake the baby!!

My, you are starting to sound like my wife.  Like the baby is going to hear me in this huge….

Right on cue, Evan began to stir in his crib.  They could hear him through the monitor.  He wasn’t really crying yet.  Henri and Ralph walked up the stairs to the nursery.

So, have you decided on the colour of the Great Room, yet?

Nahh, was just thinking about a yellow though.  It might make it feel lighter.

That room is so big, any colour would do just fine.  You’re over-thinking it. said Ralph.  I got you a price on the shingles you’d asked about.  Re-shingling this monster will set you back a fair chunk.

I am afraid to even find out. I hope it’ll be cheaper than having to rebuild when the roof falls in.  Hey, there sweet-cheeks! cooed Henri as he entered into the baby’s room.  This room was finished already.  Painted a soft green with sunshine streaming in through the windows. It was Henri’s second favourite room.

The baby was soft, pudgy and smelled delightful.  His hair was always messed up, despite his mother’s efforts to make it stay in place.  He grinned, making his dimples show and giggled.  Henri picked up the baby and sniffed his diaper.  Yep, this one was ripe.  Henri went over to the change table. Ralph stepped out onto the balcony that was attached to Evan’s room, leaning on the railing.  

Have you been pruning the trees lately?

Are you kidding?  I have so much to do in here. I haven’t really looked outside yet.  I don’t think I’ve even left the Manse in the last two days.

Sure looks as though someone has been pruning.

You’re dreaming.  There you go, all done.  Henri picked up the baby and went outside.  

It does look like someone has been pruning!!  You know, I often feel like I must have someone helping out around here – the grass never needs to be mowed and I never see any leaves on the lawn, despite it being mid-September.

Ralph raised his eyebrows.  

Any ideas?

Not yet – Halvard probably had a gardener on contract or something.  I’m sure I’ll get a bill.  Something to drink, Ralph?

Henri, Evan, and Ralph headed downstairs, this time through the back stairs and into the kitchen.

You’ve never seen a truck or anyone?

No.  Henri passed the baby to Ralph and stuck his head in the fridge, Lemonade, pop, beer. I could make some coffee?

"Coffee would be great.  It’s chilly outside today.  I don’t know of anyone who works