The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4)

by Garrett Robinson

  That very morning, we had set out into the Greatrocks, seeking the weremage.

  It did not go well.

  Yearsend was almost upon us, and it was the harshest time of winter. We rode out into the snow and the cold, and snowy and cold we remained, day after day. Our first expedition told us nothing. Any clues to the trolls’ actions or whereabouts was lost to the winds and a fresh snowfall that started the day we rode out.

  Rather than return straight to Kahaunga, we traveled east aways, for I remembered another village in that direction, and I guessed that it, too, might have been attacked by the trolls. I was correct, but it did not help us at all. The attack had clearly happened earlier than the first village, and so the clues were even older. The only thing we could tell for sure was that the trolls had stolen every bit of produce and baked goods from both villages, which was in keeping with what we knew of them already.

  We returned to Kahaunga in poor spirits—and then our mood was worsened further when we heard the news that Dryleaf had managed to gather in the meantime.

  “There have been more attacks,” he said. “Three of them, and all in villages closer to Kahaunga.”

  “Dark take me,” I said, clenching my hand to a fist. “We should have come home straightaway.”

  “We should have,” said Mag. “But no use worrying about it now.” Though her smile was gentle, it put me ill at ease. She had been treating me gingerly ever since our meeting with Ditra, and I was growing sick of it. I would much rather have had her usual teasing.

  “There is more,” said Dryleaf, his expression grim even as he continued to scratch Oku behind the ears. “The trolls have started killing.”

  I stared at him, stunned. Mag leaned forwards in her chair.

  “How many?” she said.

  “Very few,” said Dryleaf. “Still, it marks a change. No matter what, they never killed before. It was too obvious to be anything but deliberate. The word around Kahaunga is that they have given up trying to drive humans away from their lands. The people of the city fear they mean to wipe us out.”

  “And where did you hear that?” I said. “You were supposed to remain safe here in our room.”

  Dryleaf waved a hand. “One must eat.”

  I sighed. “Please do not risk yourself. But as long as you are gathering information, I suppose we should use it. You say not many were killed. How many is not many?”

  “Less than a dozen, by all accounts,” said Dryleaf. “And that tells us something, considering that the trolls have driven hundreds out of their homes. The people are frightened, and that is understandable, but I think fear is making them foolish. If the trolls wished to wipe them out, many more would have fallen.”

  “It is still too many,” I said.

  “Of course,” said Dryleaf, bowing his head. “I do not mean to make light of those who are lost.”

  “The ones who died,” said Mag. “Did they try to fight the trolls?”

  Dryleaf frowned. “Some, yes. Not others. A few were old and frail, and merely trying to escape. Most were simple farmers or craftsmen, without even a weapon to their name, much less in their hands. But … but there were also children.”

  A cold feeling came over me, starting in my gut and making its way up towards my heart. “The trolls have killed children?”

  “That is … unclear,” said Dryleaf. “No one has said such a thing. Not exactly. But children have gone missing. And there was one man … I had to ply him with much wine to get him talking, for he was distraught, weeping and rocking back and forth in his chair. But when I finally got him to talk, he told me—and he said as well, mind you, that he had already told others this, but that they had not believed him—but he said the trolls took his children away. Two of them, a son and a daughter. He said that two trolls scooped them up into their great stony paws and carried them off.”

  Mag and I looked at each other, and I knew she must be feeling the same terror and disgust that I was. The story was all too familiar to us. Children had also been taken from Northwood when it was attacked.

  “As if we needed more proof that the Shades are working with the trolls,” muttered Mag.

  We rested in Kahaunga for one night, and then we set out into the mountains again. Now a fresh urgency spurred our steps. We pushed the horses as hard as we dared, riding for the village that had been attacked most recently. When we reached it, we found all the same signs as before—destroyed buildings, raided storehouses empty of produce and goods, huge footprints tracked everywhere. But now, too, there were bodies. When we could, we burned them, for it was too dangerous for the families to travel out so far and do so.

  We kept at it for days. For over a week we explored the mountains, ranging ever farther north, seeking for the trolls while also trying to avoid being seen by them. There seemed to be no pattern to their attacks. First they would strike to the west, and then to the east, then farther north, and then so close to Kahaunga that the refugees reached the city on the same day of the attack. Anywhere humans had been foolish enough not to retreat from the wilderness, the trolls found them. They could travel almost straight across the land, while we had to navigate the roads and paths around the peaks and over the cliffs and crevasses. Whenever we found their trail, it would always lead into rocky terrain and vanish, or straight up sheer cliffs where we could not follow. Still, we made some progress. I began to see a pattern in the way the trolls moved. Always their attacks came from the north, and always they retreated to the east. That was some clue, at least.

  But I began to notice something else. Sometimes I would get a sense of being watched. It put Mag and me on high alert, for we were certain that the weremage was stalking us again. But I could never catch sight of anyone, Shade or otherwise, and I saw no ravens in the sky. Then we began to find campsites—but small ones, just a trampled-down area and the remains of a fire, hastily hidden.

  “The weremage?” said Mag, when we found the second one.

  “I do not think so,” I told her. “Why would she leave a campfire? She does not need one.”

  “Unless she has been remaining in the wilds for days at a time,” said Mag.

  I frowned. “Mayhap. We should stay wary.”

  On one of our return trips to Kahaunga, I found a mapmaker and bought a map of the area. I began to plot out where the trolls had struck, and our best guess of where they had run off to. Slowly I began to narrow down the area where I believed we could find them. But the more we searched, and the more I plotted on our map, the more I began to realize something. The noose was tightening. The trolls were massing for an attack. We were hearing reports of dozens of trolls at a time now, swarming from the mountains like an army. The pattern of their attacks seemed to be random, but they were steadily moving in one direction: straight to the heart of Kahaunga.

  They were close, and getting closer. And I did not know if Ditra could stand against them. My only hope of helping her was by finding and killing the Shades. And especially the weremage.

  “Where are they?”

  Maia frowned. “The two from Opara?”

  Ditra scowled at him. They were in her private chamber, and she was slouched in her chair at the head of her table. Maia stood in a position of rest at the other end of it. She had not invited him to sit down. “The Shades,” said Ditra. “I care nothing for the strangers.”

  “I have not found them yet,” said Maia. “But I believe I am drawing closer. Then again, so are the strangers.”

  “How?” demanded Ditra. “You are my lead ranger. You were born to this land. How are they keeping up with you?”

  Maia shrugged, projecting a nonchalance he did not feel. “I do not know, Rangatira. They seem to know the area fairly well. Certainly at least one of them has been here before.”

  Ditra found herself troubled by that, though she did not know why, and she did not greatly wish to speculate upon it. “Well, you must avoid them if you can.”

  “I have, so far,” said Maia. “It has sometimes be
en a near thing. But I may not be able to avoid them forever. We are on the same trail, after all, and it is leading us both to the same end.”

  “Then you must beat them to it,” said Ditra. “Mayhap you should take others with you.”

  “No,” said Maia. “That would only slow me down.”

  “You do not seem to be moving particularly fast,” snapped Ditra, slamming down her mug. A bit of ale splashed over the side of it onto the table.

  Maia said nothing, but only clasped his hands behind his back.

  Ditra gave a disgusted snort and stood, making her way over to the window. She stared out into the sky. Another snow was falling, heavier than it had been in the last few days.

  “Find the Shades,” she said. “Before the strangers can. We have to end this before it begins. We cannot engage in an open battle with the trolls.”

  “Of course, Rangatira.” Maia bowed and left the room.

  Ditra stayed at her window a long while, looking out into the gusts of white flakes.

  I cannot let this come to open war, she thought. But she feared it might already be too late.

  I suppose it was foolish of me to hope that we could go on forever without encountering a troll. But I did hold that hope, and it proved to be wrong.

  We were investigating yet another destroyed village. This one was only an hour’s hard ride from the sight of Kahaunga’s walls. The trolls had slain a score of people in the attack, throwing Kahaunga even deeper into panic. It was hard to tell if the trolls were growing more bloodthirsty, or if more people were dying because more people were fighting. Now that the trolls had started to kill, townsfolk were less likely to simply abandon their homes. Many fought to keep them.

  Whenever they did, they lost.

  We crept up on the village stealthily, though in truth we were not as cautious as we could have been. This was the eleventh village we had investigated, and we had not found trolls in any of them. So although we dismounted a good distance away and approached the village on foot, I did not range very far ahead of Mag to scout the place.

  That almost proved disastrous.

  Mag and I were picking our way through the buildings when we heard it: the heavy thud of a foot on stone, and a great snorting, snuffling sound. It was close—within half a span, certainly. Terror nearly stopped my heart.

  “Oku, kip,” I whispered, motioning furiously to the dog as I dragged Mag out of the street and out of sight. We ducked into a half-wrecked home with a massive hole in the wall. Part of the ceiling hung down into the main room.

  We waited a long moment. A sharp crack sounded not far away—a timber breaking. The troll was digging into another building, likely breaking it apart just like the one we were in now.

  “They left one behind?” whispered Mag.

  “Or it returned,” I whispered back. “From the reports, it sounded as though this raid was quicker than most of the others. This troll might have snuck away from the rest of its pack, hoping to find some foodstuffs the others left behind.”

  “Mayhap we should ask it.”

  I stared at her in horror. A smile crept across her face.

  “I am joking.”

  “Do not do that.”

  Oku growled low in his throat.

  “Kip, Oku.” He subsided, and I turned back to Mag. “We must get out of here, and as quietly as possible. It sounds as though it is a little distance off. We should be able to get away without it spotting us.”

  “This could be our chance, Albern,” said Mag. “We could follow it back to the others, and from them, to the Shades.”

  “We cannot risk being discovered,” I said harshly, my voice a little too loud. “You do not know these creatures, Mag.”

  “The entire reason we came out here was to find trolls.” Mag pointed through the hole in the wall. “There. I have found one.”

  “We came to find a trail. Letting a troll see us would be beyond foolish.”

  “There have been nearly a dozen trails, and they have not led us anywhere. Now we have—”

  I covered her mouth with my hand, my eyes wide. She fell silent. I swiveled back and forth, listening, while Oku quivered beside us.

  “What is it?” Mag hissed, her voice muffled by my fingers.

  “I do not hear the—”

  THOOM

  The wall on the other side of the building crashed inwards. Shards of wood and plaster showered us. A wooden beam as thick as my leg flew by, missing me by a handbreadth. The troll’s stubby fingers reached in, probing for us. It roared in fury.

  “Run!” I screamed, dragging Mag out the door. “Oku, kip!”

  The hound fled, yelping in panic, and we were just behind him. I heard the troll crash into the building where we had been hiding, but I dared not turn back to look. Mag’s arm was still in my clutches. But suddenly, to my horror, she yanked herself free and stopped in the middle of the street.

  I skidded to a halt, and Oku did the same. My stomach did somersaults as I looked at Mag.

  She had cast her cloak back and off her shoulders. In her right hand was her spear, and upon her left arm was her shield, held up in defense. The troll had stopped thundering after us, coming to a stop several paces away. It seemed more confused than anything as it glowered down at her, showing its teeth. They were mostly grey and blunt, but there were four huge tusks, two on the top and two on the bottom, that jutted from between the lips like latches holding a book closed. It regarded Mag for a long moment, heavy breaths huffing from its nostrils to steam in the frigid air.

  “Greetings,” said Mag amiably. “I am Mag. We are looking for some friends of yours.”

  The troll’s brows drew close. “You are human,” it said.

  “And you are obviously a very bright specimen of your kind.”

  “Mag, you fool!” I cried. “Do not taunt the thing. Run!”

  “No, I do not think so,” said Mag, before speaking to the troll once again. “You will never have heard of me, I suspect. In many of the nine kingdoms, I am called the Uncut Lady. Though I am not one to flee from battle, I have no wish to fight you. Tell us where we can find the humans who have been working with your pack, and you and I can part as friends.”

  The troll’s scowl deepened. “I am friends with no human,” it snarled.

  “Except the Shades, I suppose?”

  The troll roared and slammed its hands into the earth before storming towards her.

  “No chance of peace, then,” said Mag. “I suspected as much.”

  “Mag!”

  I was too late. She crouched for a moment and then leaped, spear up and shield forwards.

  The troll struck her a backhanded blow. It caught Mag from below and to the left, crashing into her shield. She sailed over the roof of a nearby building like a stone from a catapult, vanishing from sight.

  The sight of it froze me in place. I had tried to tell her. I had said she could not treat the trolls like any other foe. And now one of them had dealt with her like she was no more threatening than a gnat. I prayed to the sky that she was still alive, and I could not imagine she was not badly hurt.

  I forced my attention back to the troll. Mag would have to wait for a moment, for I could not help her if I was dead. Like Victon with the bear, I had to survive, and draw the danger away.

  The troll had stopped in its advance, shoulders hunched, fists planted on the ground. Its wide, angry eyes fixed on Oku and me. The hound had sunk back on his haunches, fur bristling, a low growl in his throat. But he made no move to attack. He wanted to protect me, but I could practically feel the fear radiating from him. I tried to think of what to do.

  Fire, I thought. Dark take me, I need fire.

  I somehow doubted the troll would let me take out my flint and steel to start a blaze. I risked a glance around. None of the buildings showed any signs of smoke—their cooking fires and hearths would have extinguished themselves long ago.

  My attention was dragged back to the troll as it took a step forwards. I r
aised my bow just a touch. But what good was an arrow against its hide?

  Mag had tried to speak with it. But she had tried bluster. Mayhap there was another way.

  “I do not wish to fight you,” I called out.

  It gave a sound that was almost a grunt, but closer to a growl. “Get out of our mountains.”

  “We will leave you in peace. You are welcome to the foodstuffs here.”

  That was a mistake. My whole body jerked as the troll roared and slammed its fists down again. “You do not give us anything. We have taken it!”

  “Of course,” I said. “I did not mean to—”

  It was too late. The troll charged. I whipped my bow up and fired a shot, aiming for the eye. But it was moving too fast, and the arrow ricocheted from its stony forehead. Oku and I dived out of the way behind the corner of a building just as the troll sped by both of us, slamming its shoulder into another structure. The wooden timbers shattered under the impact, and the roof collapsed.

  “Oku, kip!” I said. “Go!”

  With a panicked yelp, the hound ran off and out of sight. No use in both of us dying.

  I had to decide what my aim was. If Mag was still alive, she had to be hurt. Thus it seemed my best chance of accomplishing anything lay in drawing the troll away from her, and then losing it so I could swing back and find her.

  Every part of me screamed in terrified protest as I turned back to the troll, who was only now emerging from the wreckage of the home it had destroyed.

  “All right, then, beast,” I called out. “You want a fight? Come and get one.”

  My heart skipped as it gave another wild roar. I drew and fired just before it charged. But fear made my shot go wide again, and the arrow bounced from its hide.

  I turned and fled around the corner of the stone building, thinking that might give the troll pause. I was wrong. Two earth-shattering crashes shook the ground as the troll slammed through the opposite wall, and then the near one just behind me. A stone struck my shoulder, and I stumbled.

  I tried desperately not to panic as I turned another corner. I could not outrun the thing, and I could not safely hide behind any of the buildings. I had to make it lose sight of me. But I was nearing the village’s edge, and soon I would be in open terrain. My mind whirled, searching for some solution.