“Why would you? They have always observed the pact. They have kept to themselves for more generations than the years in your life.”
“That seems to have changed.”
Ditra frowned slightly. “And we will deal with it.”
Maia paused, glancing around. Ditra was grateful that at least he, too, was aware that everyone was watching them, and that morale might depend a great deal on the words the others heard them speak. He leaned close and dropped to a whisper.
“I respect that you must keep a strong front, Rangatira,” he said. “But are you not worried? Should we not retreat?”
Ditra leaned on the wall and looked into the dale far below. The mountains hid the northern end of it from this position, but she could almost imagine them there, gathering, milling about.
Preparing to sweep down upon her people and kill them all.
“We do not retreat,” she said loudly. “Kahaunga is our home.”
Maia looked frustrated, but still he kept his voice low. “A corpse is not comforted that it lies in the same place it dwelled when alive. We cannot hope to hold against a pack so large.”
Ditra looked to him. “Do you not see?” she said, lowering her voice to match his. “It is too late for that. Kahaunga is not only our home, it is our best hope. We can defend ourselves on these walls. If we retreat, and they attack us on the road, we will be helpless. We will fight here, and we will win here, or we will die here.”
He looked away, eyes flicking back and forth as he surveyed the dale. “What if we order an evacuation of the most vulnerable? Tell all those who cannot fight to leave, while the rest of us hold off the trolls to cover their retreat.”
Ditra considered it. The Telfer stronghold could contain a third of the city at most, and that would be an exceptionally tight fit. There would be folk on cots in the cells of her dungeon.
The dungeon. Mag and I crossed her mind. She forced the thought away.
“Do it,” she said. “Everyone in Kahaunga who can pick up a weapon must join us here in the stronghold, especially those who can shoot. We will hold against the trolls as long as we can. All other citizens must make for the pass west out of the mountains.”
He straightened, relief plain on his face. “Yes, Rangatira.” He turned to the others. “You heard her. Order the evacuation.”
Ditra turned her attention back to the city below. This is why Mother was so cold, she thought. One must be hard to be a Telfer.
But as she saw Maia looking at her out of the corner of his eye, she felt a flicker of doubt that she did not think our mother ever had.
Dotag stood on a hillock, observing the trolls as they gathered before him.
Two hundreds. No one had ever commanded a pack so large.
He felt nervous. He felt sick. A doubt was in him now, one he could no longer suppress. No one had ever commanded this many trolls—and no trolls had attacked human lands, as they were about to do. Not since the days trolls first came into these mountains.
That should have been a comforting thought—that he was following in the footsteps of his ancient forefathers. But it only made him more nervous, increasing his misgivings until he felt as though he wanted to vomit.
He looked down and saw Apok. She was staring up at him, not moving, not blinking. His doubt increased tenfold, fear creeping in at the edges of it. He thought of Chok’s broken body as he dragged it out of the Shade stronghold, and quickly he tried to think of something else.
Then a commotion caught his attention. As the trolls milled about, moving in great swirls and spreading out across the open turf, a path opened between them. Down that path lumbered Gatak. Trolls gave way before her, and the pack closed again behind her. She was headed straight towards Dotag’s hillock.
All of Dotag’s fears vanished in an instant. Gatak had come. Just as she had said she would.
Mayhap everything else she had promised would come true as well.
Gatak joined him on the hillock. She turned back and looked over the trolls. They covered the ground, a small plateau at the northern end of the Kahaunga valley.
“I thought there would be more,” she said, sounding vaguely disappointed.
Dotag felt somewhat crestfallen. “We are enough. We will drive the humans out. And then all the mountains will be ours.”
Gatak turned to him, her ears rising in anticipation. “Then do it.”
We had spent an uncomfortable night in our cell—or at least, Mag and I had. Dryleaf, of course, had his mattress. But his snoring had kept the two of us awake, which had not been helped by our hard cots. I understood why the old man had complained. I had spent much of the day dozing, trying to gain what extra rest I could.
But I shot awake when the horns sounded.
“What was that?” said Mag, looking towards the ceiling.
“You have never heard horns before?” I said.
“Is it the trolls?”
“It has to be.”
We sat in silence. I did not know what to do. Dryleaf bowed his head with a frown, seeming deep in thought. My hands clenched into fists and then relaxed, over and over. Mag’s gaze wandered as though she was considering something, replaying events in her head.
A door crashed open at one end of the hallway, and a guard rushed past us. At the last moment I recognized her as the one who had spoken to Mag yesterday.
“Wait!”
She skidded to a halt, looking at us with wide, frightened eyes. “I cannot—”
“What is happening?” I said, gripping the bars.
“Trolls,” she said. “They have gathered in the dale to attack the city.”
“How many?”
Her face went a shade paler. “Many.”
“Let me out,” said Mag. “You know who I am. My friend here is just as remarkable.”
I thought privately that that was a tremendous lie, but I was not going to countermand her just then. The guard hesitated. But she shook her head. “I cannot. I am sorry.”
“But if you—”
She ran on, rushing through the door at the other end of the hall.
Dryleaf sighed and stood. He shuffled towards the two of us, hand outstretched. “It sounds as though things are getting most dire. I suspect the Lord Telfer could use the two of you.”
I slammed my hand against the cell bars. “She could, though she will never admit it.”
Dryleaf pulled a key from his sleeve. Mag and I froze. He groped the air for a moment before finding the door handle. Reaching through the bars, he inserted the key and turned it.
Click
The door swung open.
Dryleaf held the key up, dangling it before us.
“I took it when the guards brought the mattress. You should return it to them on your way out.”
Mag could barely contain herself. “Why under the sky did you not tell us this before,” she growled. It was far more of an accusation than a question.
Dryleaf frowned and held up an admonishing finger. “The guards brought me my mattress because I was old and infirm and blind. It is not right to betray the kindness of anyone who would do that, even if they are imprisoning one. Unless, of course, one does so to save their lives. Just as I am doing now.”
Mag and I stared at him. “You have a very strange sense of right and wrong, old man,” I said.
Dryleaf’s frown cracked, becoming a grin. “I suppose some might think so. Take care of yourselves. I believe I will remain here. The mattress is very comfortable.”
We rushed out of the cell and down the hall where the guard had gone. Mag threw the door open to the small guard room. At the other end, the guard stood by another door leading up into the keep. She stared at us, frozen in shock.
“We are going to help in the fighting,” said Mag matter-of-factly. “And if you give us back our weapons, we will be much better at it.”
The girl’s mouth opened and then closed again. Her hand twitched as if to reach for her weapon, but she looked at Mag and thought bet
ter of it. Finally she sighed and pointed to a wooden locker across the room.
“They are in there,” she said. From her pocket she fished a small iron key and threw it into my hand. “At least I did not lose that key.”
We emerged into the stronghold’s main bailey to find chaos.
A mass of people had pressed into a great throng before the keep doors. When I first emerged into the open, I thought they were pressing forwards, seeking safety in the keep itself. But after a moment I realized that these did not look like refugees. They were young and hale people, and they were listening attentively to commands shouted at them by Telfer soldiers in armor, standing on whatever platform they could find, desperately barking orders.
Mag seized the arm of a passing guard. “Where is the battle?” she demanded.
The guard stopped looking her up and down for a moment. “In the city, of course,” she said.
“The dale?” I said.
“Yes. Lord Telfer led her forces into the streets. They are trying to slow the trolls’ advance while the rest of the city escapes.”
“If these people are trying to escape, why do they look like they are forming for battle?” I said.
“These ones are,” she said. “Everyone who can fight has been commanded to do so. The rest are taking the western pass out of the mountains.”
I took Mag’s arm. “To the city with us, then.”
We ran for the main gate. It stood open, and more people were still pushing in. We had to force our way through the crowd. Mag led the way, for as with so many things, she seemed to have a particular knack for threading through the mass. But once we were in the open again, we stopped to take in the sight before us. A mass of people was making its way up from the dale, clogging the roads. When they reached the Telfer stronghold, they split into three columns, one passing in through the gate, and the two others curling around it to keep traveling west.
“I wish we had our horses,” said Mag.
“They would not help us,” I said. “We cannot ride through the crowd and trample these people, and besides, they would bolt at the first sign of the trolls. I will take us on the side streets.”
A peal of overjoyed barking drew our attention. We turned to see Oku streaking towards us. He leaped around our feet, yapping and licking our hands and then retreating to bark some more.
“We are glad you are here as well, Oku,” I said. “Even Mag.”
“Hm,” said Mag, who had scratched Oku behind the ears just as much as I had, though she tried to look aloof while she did it. “Let us not waste any more time. If our last tumble with the trolls was any indication, your sister is not having an easy time of it.”
I nodded and led the way into the city. We avoided the main roads, and I took them down any side streets I could remember. But even those avenues were full of people, Kahaunga natives who knew their way better than I did and who wanted to escape. We pressed through them as quickly as we could.
It was quite clear when we reached the battle at last.
We slid to a halt in the center of a wide square as a roar ripped through the air. Mag lifted her spear, and I raised my bow. A squadron of Telfer soldiers came pelting into view, fear on their faces.
A troll was just behind them.
I fired as Mag leaped to the attack. My arrow bounced from the troll’s shoulder. It did not so much as flinch. But it did stop in its pursuit of the soldiers and focused on Mag, who stood firm before it, her feet wide, her weapon ready. Oku joined her, bristling and growling.
“Albern,” called Mag. “Do you have any ideas?”
“Try not to die.”
The troll snarled and swung for her. Mag dived to the side. Oku snapped at the troll’s massive fist, but darted out of the way as it pressed forwards.
I turned to the soldiers. They had stopped in their flight and now stood in a cluster around me, staring in wonder at the sight of Mag facing the troll with only a wolfhound to join her.
“Oil! Who has oil?”
One of the soldiers blinked at me as though she did not understand. But finally she pulled a flask of it from her belt. “This is the last one we have.”
“Someone give me a torch!” I barked.
“We lost them,” said one of the soldiers. “We would not have retreated if we had fire.”
Growling in frustration, I spared a glance for Mag. She had the troll chasing her all around the square, always staying just out of its grasp. Her flight looked desperate, but I could not tell if she was merely leading it on. Oku trailed behind the troll, sometimes snapping at its ankles, but he did not distract it at all.
“We have to get fire,” I said. “Now.”
“The … the buildings,” said a soldier. “Some are—”
I looked past him. To the north, where the battle was thickest, smoke rose into the air. I shoved the flask of oil into his hand.
“Land this on that troll,” I said. “Do not miss.”
Several of them had arrows wrapped with pitch-covered rags. I snatched two up and sprinted for the smoke.
Three houses down, I found one with flames licking at the outer wall. I thrust the arrows into the flames, and they caught at once. Turning, I sprinted back for the square.
The troll no longer pressed Mag so closely, but I soon saw why. The soldiers had fanned back out around the two of them, trying to distract it so the one with the flask could throw it. Two had been killed. Their bodies lay at the edges of the square, limbs twisted at odd angles.
I readied one of the arrows. “Do it!” I roared.
The soldier looked back at me. In his terror, he almost dropped the flask.
“Now! What are you waiting for?”
He looked ready to faint. But he turned and threw.
The flask sailed over the troll’s head. It shattered against a distant wall, the oil splattering over a square area three paces wide.
The soldier turned to look back at me in horror. I was just as shocked as he was.
“It is the size of a house!” I cried. “How could you miss?”
His limbs shook, but he gave no reply.
“All right, all of you, get out,” I commanded. “If you can, find another unit and join them. If you cannot, retreat to the keep.”
They ran to do as I ordered, scooping up their fallen comrades and carrying them off. I still held my arrow ready, but the flame was useless now. It would not pierce the troll’s hide, and without oil, I could not hope to catch it in a blaze.
Mag’s desperate turns and dodges were bringing her closer to me with every step. I edged backwards. I could not abandon her to fight alone, but I was out of ideas. In the heat of battle, I could not hurt the troll any more than Mag could, and neither could I dodge its wild blows as well as she.
She glanced over and seemed to notice me for the first time. “Where is the oil?” she called out, ducking the troll’s huge fist as it whirled through the air where her head had just been.
“All over that building,” I said, pointing. “The fool missed.”
Mag had to leap backwards as the troll’s hands crashed into the street with a punishing blow. “He missed?” she cried. “It is as big as a house!”
“I told him.”
She looked over at the building again, and then at me. The troll paused for a moment, eyes narrowing, looking for an opening.
“Light it,” said Mag.
The troll snorted and stepped forwards.
“What?” I said, incredulous.
“Light it!” she said, running for the building. The troll screamed in rage as it went after her.
I understood almost too late. Raising the bow, I drew. The flames danced in front of my eyes, almost obscuring Mag with waves of heat. She skidded to a stop in front of the building and turned to face the troll head-on. It was in a full charge now, thundering straight for her.
I loosed. Mag dodged aside at the last possible moment.
The troll and the arrow hit the oil at the same time.
Shrieking in terror, the troll turned and ran from the square. Mag looked very much as though she wanted to pursue it, but she stayed put. The building continued to burn, the flames gradually climbing higher until the roof caught as well.
“Are you all right?” I said.
“It did not touch me. Some of your sister’s soldiers were not so fortunate.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, “we should get moving. The battle goes on without us.”
Mag nodded, and we turned to head north. But suddenly there came the sound of tramping feet down the city street towards us. A company of Telfer soldiers came into view. They were not exactly running, but they were clearly in retreat. At their head was Ditra. Her face was smudged with soot and sweat, and there was an ugly cut on her cheek. Her armor was dented in several places, and I thought I detected a limp in her gait.
Her steps faltered as she caught sight of us, and the company ground to a halt. I could see the fury rising in her, and her hand tightened on her axe.
“What in the dark below—”
“We heard there was a battle,” I said. “I thought you might be able to use us.”
“You broke out?” she said. “Who did you—”
“We harmed no one, I promise you,” I said.
“And we just saved a squadron of your soldiers,” added Mag.
Ditra’s gaze flashed to her. “What?”
“A troll pursued them into this square,” I said. “Mag held it off while I used oil and fire upon it.”
Sheer shock seemed to wipe the anger from Ditra’s face. “You faced a troll alone?”
I watched as Mag struggled not to look haughty, and she almost succeeded. “You said you have heard of me.”
A crash sounded from behind the soldiers—a fair distance away, but not far enough for comfort. Ditra glanced that way for a moment, and when she turned back, there was a resigned look upon her face.
The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Page 51