Don't Feed the Trolls

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Don't Feed the Trolls Page 17

by Jacob Peppers


  “Well,” Hank said with a nod. “That’s alright then.”

  “Fine,” Mariana said, “so you’re hiding out. That doesn’t explain why you lurked in the corner of the room while we walked inside like some pervert, never saying anything.”

  The old man grunted. “Never been much good with people. Not much good without ‘em either, truth to tell. I heard you folks comin’, figured I’d just wait it out, maybe you’d leave, and I could go on bein’ not much good alone.”

  “So why’d you talk, then?”

  He gave her a smile. “Because while I don’t much like bein’ around people, I don’t much like bein’ alone, either.”

  “That…doesn’t make any sense,” Mariana said.

  “No, it does,” Dannen said. “Trust me, it does. Anyway,” he went on, turning back to the old man, “where did the rest of the villagers go?”

  “They saw the undead comin’—that one your friend here found—and decided, what with that great beasty flying through here not long ago, that maybe Alberdine wasn’t the most healthy place to be just now. They all packed up and are traveling—fleein’ might be closer to the heart of it—to the capital. They figure they’ll be safer with King Ufrith and his army.”

  Dannen did his best to hide his wince, for if what Perandius had told him so recently was true, he wasn’t altogether sure that the king of the north even had an army anymore. “And…you didn’t go with them?”

  “No, no I didn’t,” Hank said. “Seemed like a whole lot of walking for nothin’ when I could die just as easy right here with an ale in my hand.”

  “Die?” Mariana asked. “But I thought you said they were traveling to King Ufrith looking for safety?”

  “So they are,” Hank agreed, “but I doubt they’ll find it. See, I got to thinkin’, while everybody was runnin’ this way and that, decidin’ what to keep and what to leave, that if that damned necromancer can spare a great beasty like what I saw fly overhead not long ago, not to mention fifty or a hundred undead, as came through here, then that probably ain’t a good sign for our king, is it?” He glanced at Dannen. “And judgin’ by your expression, well, I’m thinkin’ I wasn’t that far wrong.”

  Dannen winced, remembering that Perandius had been very particular about him not sharing what he’d told him with anyone but his companions. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “That right?” the old man asked, an amused smile on his face. “Well”—he shrugged—“have it your way. But I’m old, not blind, and even a blind man could see that you know somethin’ about all this, and it don’t look like nothin’ good. No, unless I miss my guess, and unless the gods have got a few spare miracles lyin’ around—they might too, since they never seem to put ‘em to any use—I’m thinkin’ the north is just about well and truly screwed, maybe the whole world. And the folks first in line, I imagine, will be those close to King Ufrith. From there it’ll spread out like the ripples in a pond when someone drops a stone in it. I’ve seen it before, though, admittedly probably not with quite as big a stone as this.”

  “So what?” Mariana asked. “You thought to yourself, yeah, goin’ to the king is probably a death sentence?”

  There was something in her voice Dannen couldn’t quite put a finger on, distrust, maybe, but Hank spoke on. “That’s right.”

  “And you just let them walk right into it?” she asked. “Did you even try to talk them out of it?”

  The older man finally frowned at that. “Not much on givin’ speeches, girl. Not anymore. My experience, they never do much good.”

  “That’s your reason?” she demanded. “That they—”

  “Mariana,” Dannen interrupted, “relax, alright? Hank’s not the enemy. He’s—”

  “Isn’t he?” she demanded, turning on him. “Because, if you ask me, he ain’t sounding much like a friend, least not to those villagers who, so far as he knows, he just let go to their deaths without so much as a word of warning.”

  Up to this point, Hank had seemed to accept Mariana’s admittedly spiky demeanor in good humor, but Dannen noted that the man was not smiling now, not at all, and he looked angry. “You want a speech, girl? Fine, I’ll give you a speech. I’ll tell you the biggest truth there is, maybe one bigger’n you can swallow. We’re all sent to our deaths. The moment we climb kickin’ and screamin’ out of our momma’s bellies, the world sets about lookin’ for ways to put us in the ground. And you want another truth? How’s this: me and the other Ethics,” he said, spitting the word, “saved hundreds, maybe thousands in our days—and for what? Sure, we killed some orcs and trolls, chopped their heads off and paraded ‘em around. Near thirty years at it, all told, and for what? The world was shit when we started, and it’s still shit, and all that work didn’t make a wit of difference. No girl, like I told Butcher here,” he said, “Honor’s dead, and it was dead long ‘fore me and you got here. If it ever lived at all.”

  “So the world’s shit,” Mariana said, “maybe that’s true, but so what? You just give up? You just let those people go off on their own when maybe you could have helped them? Sounds pretty damn selfish to me.”

  “People are selfish, sweetheart. It’s why the world is the way it is. Besides, helped them what?” the old man said. “Live today so they can die tomorrow? You know,” he went on, “when I was younger, me and the other Ethics, the bards used to follow us around day and night—couldn’t hardly get rid of those bastards—always askin’ their questions, lookin’ for another song, one that’d make ‘em famous. And one of the questions they always loved to ask was how we kept doin’ what we did, how we went on day after day facin’ down this monster or that madman. And I’ll let you in on a little secret, girly, one you’re too young to know. What keeps you goin’ ain’t the knowledge that you’re ‘doing good’ or some other naïve shit like that. It ain’t a warm fuzzy little feelin’. What keeps you goin’ is the coin. And the women, of course. Say this for bein’ a hero—there’s more than a few women willin’ to show you some proper thanks.”

  Mariana frowned, and Dannen thought she was close, perhaps very close, to reaching for her weapons. “Relax,” he said to her. “He’s joking, that’s all. Isn’t that right, Hank?” he asked, looking back at the older man.

  The man once known as Honor shrugged. “I’m gonna get another ale.” With that, he rose and started for the empty bar.

  Once Dannen judged him out of earshot, he turned back to the woman, speaking in a low whisper. “I’ll admit, Hank’s a bit rough around the edges, but, gods, Mariana—you might never have heard of them but the Ethics are the most famous heroes of all time. They were all known for their kindness, their compassion, and none more than Honor himself. Isn’t that right, Fedder?” he asked, glancing to the mage for help.

  Fedder though, was frowning uncertainly at Hank. “I don’t know, Butcher. Seems like a bit of an asshole to me.”

  Dannen blinked, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. He’d always thought he was one of the most cynical bastards in the world, but it seemed it was a more intense competition than he realized. “What’s wrong with all of you?” he demanded, looking between them. “Gods, the man is a living legend. The least you can do is show a little respect.”

  “Huh,” Mariana said. “Well. I would, only, it seems I must have left my respect in my other pants, turns out I’m fresh out.”

  “You sure, lass?” Fedder asked. “I can help you check, if you wa—”

  “Not a chance, old man.”

  Fedder grunted. “Well. Can’t blame a man for trying.”

  She frowned, fingering the weapons sheathed at her waist. “Sure I can.”

  Dannen shook his head in annoyed disbelief. “Here we are lucky enough to meet a man who, along with the other Ethics, changed the face of the world for the better, and all you can do is bitch and moan.” He turned to Tesler. “What about you, lad?”

  The young man looked nervous, as if he were taking a test, one he hadn’t had a chance to prepare for. �
��Well. He um…he’s certainly tall. Isn’t he?”

  “He’s tall,” Dannen repeated.

  “Or…not?” Tesler offered. “It’s hard to say, I guess, with the stoop and all…”

  “Damnit,” Dannen hissed, “what’s wrong with all of you? The man’s a, damnit, he’s a—

  “Legend,” Mariana said, nodding. “So you’ve said.”

  Dannen pinched the bridge of his nose, struggling to keep his patience. “That’s right.”

  “Well,” the woman offered, glancing over his shoulder toward the bar, “your ‘legend’ appears to be helping his legendary self to the bartender’s coin.”

  Dannen frowned, turning, to see that, indeed, the old man had finished pouring his ale from one of the casks stacked behind the bar and was now rifling behind the counter, retrieving coins and putting them in his pocket. “Well,” he said weakly, “so what? Probably he’s just taking them to hold for him until the innkeeper comes back.”

  “Sure,” Mariana said, her tone thick with sarcasm, “probably you’re right. After all, that’d be the honorable thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

  Dannen gritted his teeth, about to say something cutting—though what exactly that might have been, he didn’t know. It was fine to be pissed off, considerably less fine if you ended up pissing off an assassin woman. But just then, he heard a shuffling sound, and he turned to see Honor making his way around the bar, heading back toward them, an unmistakable jingle coming from his trouser pockets as he did.

  “Look,” Dannen said, “he’s coming back. I don’t ask a lot of any of you, just do me a favor, be polite and try to hold back your asshole tendencies, alright? The world’s got a lot to thank Honor for.”

  “Looks like the absent innkeeper has done his thanking already,” Mariana observed.

  Dannen let out a growl and started to stand when the mage caught his arm, forcing him back down.

  “Alright, lass,” Fedder said, “that’s enough. Let’s all just take it easy, okay?”

  Dannen blinked. He’d known Fedder for a long time, known him to be many things—a raving lunatic chief among them—but he had never before known him to be the voice of reason, and he wondered what it said about them—about him—that he was now.

  “Fine,” the woman said, “I’m sorry, okay? Maybe you’re right—maybe I just read him wrong.” She shrugged. “I can’t say it hasn’t happened before. There was this guy, once, back in Talinseh who tried to hire me to kill a cat. I thought it was a joke at the time, took the job and—”

  “Might be we ought to save the story for later, lass.”

  She winced. “Right. Anyway,” she went on, turning back to Dannen. “I’m sorry. If you say he’s a hero then he’s a hero. I’ll be nice.”

  Dannen let out a heavy, relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “Of course.”

  Just then, Hank returned, setting his ale down and collapsing into his chair with a relieved sigh. “Ah, there we are. Took forever to find a clean glass in this dump.”

  Mariana grunted. “Suppose the innkeeper was a bit busy fleeing from the undead to make sure you were treated up to your standards, Your Highne—” She paused as she noticed Dannen’s scowl. “What I mean is, I’m sure he would have cleaned the place up, if he’d known he was to be visited by one of your…fame.”

  Hank watched her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, then he let out a sharp laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, you’ve got a fireball on your hands here, don’t you, Butcher?” he said. “But,” he leaned in, eyeing her up and down. “A pretty one, there’s no denying that.”

  Dannen glanced cautiously over at the girl, sure that she would have something to say—or do—from the way the man was ogling her, but she only offered him a smile, one that clearly cost her. “Thanks.”

  “Real pretty,” Hank repeated, nodding. “Tell me, lass, you ever lain with a hero before?”

  “Not…not that I can recall.”

  The old man grinned, licking his lips. “Well. Something you might want to give a try. A lot of the stories from the old days are bullshit, but not all of them are. Why, I’m sure there’s some farmer’s daughters that would agree readily enough with that much at least.”

  “Is that right?” she said, and though she said the words kindly enough, Dannen could see the anger dancing in her eyes. “Well, I’m sure they’re the envy of all the…farmer’s daughters.”

  Hank let out another laugh. “Quite right, girly, quite right. And you might just be right up there with the best of them. Isn’t that right, lad?” he asked, turning to glance at Tesler.

  “I’m…sorry, sir, what’s that?”

  “Oh come now, boy,” the old man said with a grin. “Any fool with eyes can see you’re smitten with her, that you’re checking her out every time she ain’t lookin.” Tesler colored at that, his face turning a deep shade of crimson, and Hank let out another piercing laugh. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, boy, ain’t no shame in it. Why, a body like that is made to be admired, ain’t it? A work of the gods themselves and one they got right, at least this time. And artists don’t paint their pictures so people won’t look at ‘em, do they?”

  “I…I guess not,” Tesler managed in a squeaky voice, pointedly avoiding Mariana’s gaze.

  Hank, though, didn’t seem to notice. He was back to admiring Mariana again, as if she were a piece of livestock he was considering purchasing at market. “Damn fine. Tell you what, girl, before you all leave, what do you say to me and you taking a tumble in the bed? I’ll show you just how big my honor is, how’d that be?”

  Mariana opened her mouth to speak, but Tesler beat her to it. “Leave her alone.”

  The old man frowned, slowly turning to regard him. “What’s that, boy?”

  “Y-you heard me,” Tesler said, his face growing even redder, “you don’t…you don’t talk to her like that.”

  Hank studied him for several seconds, his eyes narrowed, then let out another laugh. “Relax, boy. I don’t mean any offense, alright?”

  “Of course not,” Fedder said, glancing at Dannen, “you were just trying to give her a compliment, that’s all, we all understa—”

  “Oh, I can give you quite a bit more than a compliment, girl,” Hank offered. “Quite a bit more indeed. Don’t look so damn surprised, Butcher, starin’ at me like I’ve grown horns. A woman travels around with three men in her company, there’s no shame in knowin’ she likes it. After all, the nights get cold sometimes, don’t they?”

  “Butcher,” Fedder said in a careful tone, “this has been a treat and all, but it might be best if we left. Things to do and all that.”

  Another laugh from Hank. “Oh, come now. What are you a bunch of priests? Don’t tell me you haven’t sampled her. Now, all jokes aside,” he went on, his gaze roaming hungrily over Mariana as he leaned in, “how much you thinking?”

  Mariana blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  “Ain’t no need to play coy with me, girl. I’ll pay and good money. Why,” he grinned, “it’d be my honor.”

  Dannen winced as a fist was slammed down on the table angrily, and it wasn’t until everyone turned and looked at him that he realized it had been his fist that had done the slamming. And as he realized this, he also realized something else—he was angry. But this was not the almost supernatural anger he sometimes felt before one of his fits. This, instead, was a very human anger, and he found himself glaring at the old man. “Enough. You don’t talk to her like that.”

  “Dannen,” Mariana said, “it’s fine, really. The gods know I’ve heard worse.”

  “See?” Hank said, “she says it’s fine. Gods, for a man famous for bloodletting, you sure turned out to be a bit of a sissy, didn’t you?” Another laugh, one that was quickly beginning to wear on Dannen’s nerves.

  “Fedder,” he said, his voice coming out surprisingly calm considering the storm of anger raging within him, “why don’t you and the others wait outside. I’ll be along directly.”

&nbs
p; “Dannen,” Mariana said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “we’ve been in enough fights already with more to come. There isn’t any need—”

  “Don’t worry, Mariana,” he said, his eyes never leaving the older man’s. “I’m not going to fight with him. Just have a quick word, that’s all. I’ll meet you all in a minute.”

  The three shared uncertain glances with one another before rising. “You want us to find another place?” Fedder offered. “How long you reckon you’ll be?”

  “Oh,” Dannen said, not looking away from Hank who was smiling, “not long. Not long at all.”

  They hesitated for a few seconds but, in moments, they all shuffled out the door, Tesler casting backward glances at them before disappearing after the others.

  “Well done,” Hank said once they were gone, clapping softly. “Damn well done.”

  Dannen frowned, confusion making its way past his anger. “What’s that?”

  The old man waved a hand. “You know, the whole righteous indignation bit. Used it myself a couple of times, and damn if it doesn’t work wonders, practically drops the women’s pants without having to so much as raise a finger.”

  Dannen’s frown deepened. “That’s not what this is about. You were out of line.”

  The old man laughed. “Relax, alright, friend? I didn’t know you had your eye on her—how could I, us all havin’ only just met. If that’s the way it is, then I’ll leave you to it. No need to go knockin’ swords over it.”

  Dannen didn’t have a sword and neither did the old man, at least so far as he could see, but then he didn’t think that was what he’d meant, and he found his anger returning. “She isn’t a piece of property to be argued over, Hank. She’s one of the world’s best assassins, intelligent, talented—”

  “And just how talented, you’ll have to let me know, won’t you?” the man asked, grinning. “Unless, of course, the lad beats you to it. Got his eye on her, that’s for sure, though I doubt anything’ll come of it. Skittish little bastard, ain’t he? Scared of his own shadow, you ask me.”

 

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