The lumberjack rested on his axe and surveyed his work. It was a good morning’s worth of wood. His only problem is that it was mid afternoon.
He reached for his lunch, stretching out his muscles. He was getting on. He should be thinking about becoming a kindly grandfather, or a wise old storyteller. He knew he should be training the next lumberjack, or even the next huntsman, but no one was interested in those roles anymore. And the ones that were just weren’t up to the task.
Not that it might matter. No one was coming forward to deliver lunch to their grandparents. The queue for wizards and vampires, though? That ran round the block.
He sighed and checked the sun. He supposed if he hurried he could make Grandmother’s place in about an hour and a half. But then he’d need to heft some rocks so he should make it 2.
He started to pack his gear away when he felt the familiar tingle on the back of his neck. He listened for the wind that wasn’t there to move the trees and a distant pop.
He heard the familiar sound of the brush parting.
“Fenella. It’s always lovely to see you but I’m going to be a bit push for -” He turned and saw not his favourite witch, but another woman dressed like a pirate.
And a thief.
Next to her, but slightly behind, her was a..a thing… It was black and bulky, with a head that have protruding eyes and a tube for a mouth.
He looked back at the woman. And…maybe.. an outrider for a local noble.
The thing pulled its head off, which revealed it to be a mask and, beneath it, a man.
“Hi. See, Fenella is a little busy at the moment. She made me promise I’d say this, so when you see her next you’ll have to vouch for me.”
The woman had a strange accent that couldn’t quite place. The lumberjack nodded.
“She said, ‘Tell the Lumberjack I’ll come and see him soon. You don’t leave a man with a chopper that size waiting.’ I’m sorry.”
The Lumberjack grinned, blushed, looked away and then hefted his axe.
“What can I do for you…”
“You can call me Manzer.”
“What can I do for you, Manzer?”
She strode across the remaining distance. “I’ve brought you a new recruit. He needs to be trained.”
“What?” The man with her seemed surprised. Manzer turned to him, “Dude, you’re not going back there – they’ll smoke you for sure. And you sure as shit ain’t hanging with me and F. You’ll stay here, he’ll train you, you’ll pay your dues. THAT’S what you’ll do.”
The lumberjack was as confused about her accent as she was about the words she used. She turned back to face him. “I think he’d make a better Huntsman but that’s, kinda up to…you.” Her bravado failed with the terrible ending of the sentence. “You know?”
She turned back to the man, remembering herself. “Oh, you can call him Tony.”
“But my name-”
Manzer cut him off. “You are called Tony from now on. Do not fuck that up.”
“Actually. He’ll be called The Lumberjack, or The Huntsman. At the moment, he has no name.” The Lumberjack looked at the man. “Son, come with me. Let’s test you out.” He turned to Manzer. “Missy, you tell your Lady that I’d be very happy to have her visit so I can show her how I split wet pine.” He smiled, looking to his feet before glancing his eyes back up and her. “And I’ll ask her if you did.”
Manzer shook her head and walked back into the forest.
The two men stood, waiting. There was a pop, and a shiver.
“Come on,” said the Lumberjack. “I’ll take you to grandmothers. We need to get some rocks.”
