“Bettie deserves to know all about the dwarf she’s going to marry,” Justan said firmly.
Lenny snorted. “Don’t think that’s gonna happen, son. Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t lettin my kid be raised without a daddy. But every time I bring up gettin’ hitched, Bettie just looks like I asked her to eat a turd and throws somethin’ at me.”
Justan frowned. “That’s strange. She told me she was going to marry you.”
Lenny’s eyes widened. “When’d she say that?”
“Just earlier tonight. When you left.” Justan said. “She told me to come talk to you. Then she told me to convince you to talk to her about it because, she said, ‘his future wife should know these things.’”
Lenny shook his head. “Well I’ll be dag-gummed. What is that woman playin’ at?”
“I don’t know,” Justan said. “But it sounds like you shouldn’t give up.”
“I wasn’t gonna anyway,” Lenny said with a scowl. He stormed back towards the Hall of Elements, muttering to himself.
Chapter Twenty Eight
The troll farm was tantalizingly close. Deathclaw could see at least two hundred of the slimy creatures, standing in clusters of ten to twenty. Each cluster swayed stupidly next to small wooden lean-tos where the moonrats hid, controlling them from the shade. The stench of these trolls was particularly strong. The fumes were so thick Deathclaw was developing a headache.
They’re getting smarter, Beth said for the tenth time that afternoon, watching as an orc patrol passed beneath the tree they waited in. She has them ready for us.
Perhaps, Deathclaw replied, but he had to agree she was probably right.
When they found the first few farms, all Deathclaw had to do was light one troll trail and the entire place would go up in flames; hundreds of trolls and dozens of moonrats cooked at once. At first they had been able to make it look like a simple accident, perhaps started by an orc stupid enough to start a camp fire too close to the trolls. But Mellinda had started putting safeguards in place.
Hilt had been able to think ways around them so far, but this time the security was a lot more difficult to break through. The size and frequency of patrols had increased, making it harder for them to get close. In addition, there were goblins assigned to troll trail duty. Their job was to walk around the farm covering up troll trails with dirt to keep them from building up and becoming a hazard.
Beth and Deathclaw had only found their hiding spot after great difficulty and they’d been forced to sit there for hours as they waited for the right opportunity to strike. The orcs were getting too efficient in their duty.
Poor Charz, Beth said.
Deathclaw turned his head to look up at her perch two branches above him. She had done a great job camouflaging herself that morning, sewing leaves and twigs into her clothing. If he hadn’t known she was there, he might not have noticed her. Has he been wounded?
No, but he’s frustrated and I don’t blame him.
Deathclaw shook his head and looked back down at the passing patrol. Charz and Hilt were out on the other side of the farm and had been waiting just as long as they had, ready to cause a commotion if Deathclaw and Beth needed it. Each one of them now carried a Jharro whistle so that Beth could coordinate attacks and movements, but to Deathclaw’s mind, Beth spent too much of her time using the whistles to monitor everyone’s emotions.
Charz is always frustrated, Deathclaw said.
Wouldn’t you be? His naming wizard is distraught over Master Latva’s coma, not knowing if he’ll live. Charz doesn’t feel like he fits in with the rest of us, and he rarely gets to do more than wait as a reserve when we do these raids.
Deathclaw sighed. He understood how Charz was feeling. He had spent an entire month cut off from Justan, after all. Yet he had still done what was needed without whining.
Perhaps we should have brought the gorc with us after all. Then he would have had something to play with. The giant and the gorc had gotten along quite well for the few days they had stayed in Pinewood. He hadn’t been happy leaving her behind.
You’re not being fair to him, Deathclaw, Beth chided. And Durza’s magic may well have been useful if we had taken her with us. I would have pushed Hilt to take her if I hadn’t felt prompted to leave her there. For some reason, she needed to stay in Pinewood. Besides, she didn’t want to leave with us anyway.
Deathclaw had been relieved when Beth felt that particular ‘prompting’. He had come to trust Beth’s instincts about people, but that Durza creature would have been a difficult companion to have around. Regardless, Charz has been tedious.
And you haven’t been? Beth asked with a mental snort.
What are you speaking of? Deathclaw asked.
You, with your constant worry over Talon. I’m always having to reign you in, to keep you from running off to either find her or try to rejoin Sir Edge at the Mage School.
I am not tedious, Deathclaw insisted. His reasons for wanting to return to Justan’s side were legitimate. There had been multiple times where his presence near Justan could have averted disaster. He would have found more of the witch’s spies. He could have killed the archer that struck Justan before it even cocked an arrow.
The news of the raptoid attack had been the hardest one for Deathclaw to ignore. If he had been there, he could have issued a proper warning. He could have stopped Talon. With Star in hand, he may even have been able to destroy them all by himself and the leaders that had been slain would still be alive.
And then there’s your constant worrying over your sword, Beth added.
Star is . . . troubling to me, Deathclaw admitted. He glanced at his hand. The star-shaped scar at the base of his palm still hadn’t faded. He had even bitten it off a few times, but once his tissue had healed, the scar had returned anyway. It was as if his body considered the mark a natural part of his skin now. When I touch its hilt, I feel like it is watching me.
This was a new development. Star had always been quiet before, but something had changed after his fight with the trolls and moonrats two months prior. It was as if the sword had come to life and since they started burning troll farms, the feeling had become more and more insistent.
Bound weapons do that, Beth said. My viper bow is always watching me and every time I pick it up, it pleads with me to shoot something. I think the scar in your hand is the sword’s way of saying it belongs to you now.
Beth said that a spirit was bound to his sword. Deathclaw hadn’t believed her at first, but when he looked at Star with spirit sight, he could make out a faint glow. He turned his gaze back out to the trolls. They were standing there brainlessly, waiting for their turn to be chopped up and turned into more trolls. He touched the handle of his sword. I can feel it now. Star wants to cut the trolls. It wants to burn them.
Hmm, Beth thought for a moment. Perhaps the spirit in your sword has a specific purpose. Yntri Yni’s people have bound items that have only one use. For instance, they have a spirit-bound gate that’s purpose is to open only to people that achieve a certain rank.
You are saying that Star was made to fight trolls, Deathclaw surmised.
I don’t know that for sure. It’s just an idea. It’s also possible the spirit inside the sword just doesn’t like trolls or maybe it just likes how easily they catch on fire, she suggested.
Perhaps, Deathclaw replied. He leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. Look there, at that first group of trolls.
The pool of slime around their feet had flowed over to join with the slime pools of several other clusters. The goblins on duty with their shovels were not paying attention. They had gathered to the side and were playing some sort of game using small white rocks.
I see it, Beth said excitement pouring from her thoughts. This could be our chance. Hilt sees it from his side too. Do you think you can get close enough to light it without being seen?
Beth and Hilt were going out of their way to make sure that they weren’t seen by anything that could alert Mellinda to who
was causing her problems. On the way back from Pinewood, they had deliberately caused a commotion so that the moonrat mother would think they had traveled to the north. So far it seemed they were successful in keeping their identities secret, though all of them knew it would be unavoidable. Sooner or later she would know it was them. There couldn’t be many groups attacking her army.
I can make it. Deathclaw watched the departing orc patrol. Their backs were turned to him and soon they would pass behind a group of trees. He could slide down and reach the slime pool before the goblins noticed.
Do it, then. Hurry, she said.
He backed down his branch and slid down the trunk of the tree, then picked up a small broken branch from the ground at the base of the tree. Glancing quickly to make sure no one saw him, Deathclaw snuck towards the area between the troll clusters where the slime had pooled.
As he moved, Deathclaw reached into a small pouch at his waist and pulled out a narrow wooden tube with a leather cap. He removed the cap, revealing the fire-runed metal button on the end. Quickly, he rubbed it across the dry tree branch. Flames shot from the wood and Deathclaw tossed the branch on the slime pool.
He backed away, expecting a sudden flare as the slime ignited, but the fire didn’t behave as expected. Flames crept along the slime trail slowly, and as they reached the first cluster of trolls, they flowed up their bodies deliberately as if the slime were only mildly flammable. The trolls should have run screaming before the moonrats could bring them under control, but these ones simply stood, swaying as if the flames didn’t matter.
Deathclaw darted behind a nearby bush and watched the slow spread of fire with concern. The fire is wrong.
What is it? Beth said. What’s slowing it down?
I don’t know.
An orc guard saw the onward march of the flames and shouted. Cries rang out and the goblins stopped their game. With shocked yelps, they grasped shovels and buckets of dirt and ran towards the slime trails.
Deathclaw hissed as a goblin neared the critical junction, shovel in hand. It would reach it before the flames did. If the goblin stopped the fire’s spread there, the rest of the trolls would go untouched and the orcs would search the area in full. Hilt and Deathclaw were stealthy enough to escape, but Beth and Charz were depending on the chaos of the fire to help them get away. Deathclaw readied himself to rush out and attack the goblin.
Wait. I’m trying something! Beth sent. It was obvious that whatever it was took a lot of concentration, because her voice was quite faint.
Suddenly a chorus of screeches echoed out. The cluster of trolls that had caught fire broke formation and ran. One of them jumped under the lean-to and attacked the moonrat, while others charged the goblins. The fire reached the junction and spread towards the other troll clusters. Soon the entire farm was ablaze and though the burn was slow, it was still effective.
As soon as they were sure that the frantic orcs would be unsuccessful in stopping the blaze, Beth called out, I’m coming down. Hilt and Charz are heading to the meeting place.
Deathclaw met her at the base of the tree and they ran into the woods together. Deathclaw took the lead, taking them down paths that would be harder for the orcs to track. What did you do to make the trolls attack?
It was difficult, but I was able to reach out and block that individual moonrat’s power so that the trolls were released, she explained.
Deathclaw’s brow furrowed in concern. But wouldn’t Mellinda know it was you? All their precautions would be useless if their identity had just been given away.
I don’t think so, Beth assured him. I didn’t cut the moonrat’s presence off from Mellinda. I cut the moonrat’s presence off from the trolls. I was careful. I don’t think it would feel like a spirit magic attack. Hopefully she thinks the trolls went out of control because they caught fire.
They should have done that anyway, Deathclaw reminded her. He led her up the center of a rocky bottomed creek. They were nearly there.
That’s a good point, she admitted as they sloshed through the shallow water. The only thing I can think of is that the moonrat watching them was particularly strong. That could have kept them from running.
Hilt and Charz were waiting for them when they arrived. The meeting spot was a stand of trees marked by a large mossy rock that angled up from the forest floor. The named warrior was pacing back and forth, his hands on sword handles, while Charz was sitting on the rocky outcropping, idly crushing ants with one wide finger. Hilt grinned when he saw them while Charz just gave them a bored wave.
“That one got a bit strange, didn’t it?” Hilt said with a chuckle. “I was worried you’d be seen up in that tree.”
“Whoo hoo, you made it,” the giant said, stifling a yawn. “Can we please find a way to fight next time?”
“We’ve talked this over,” Hilt said. “As soon as we’re seen, Mellinda will know it’s us doing the attacks.”
“I still don’t understand why it’s so important that we keep our identity secret,” Charz grumbled. “I liked thumbing my nose at her. We were successful fighting that way before. Isn’t the important thing that she can’t track us down?”
Hilt sighed and said reluctantly, “He has a point, Beth. Mellinda has to at least suspect we’re the ones setting fire to her farms. She did send a sizeable force looking for us last time.”
“Look, I don’t know the reason.” Beth sighed, placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t know why it matters. It’s just a feeling. I can’t explain it further.”
The giant shrugged. “If it were anyone but you, Beth, I’d say that wasn’t good enough, but,” He chuckled and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. “You’re the witch here, not me.”
Beth narrowed her eyes at him, her jaw working as she decided whether to be offended.
Hilt walked up and placed an arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we should return to camp. Is anyone pursuing us, dear?”
She pursed her lips and closed her eyes briefly. “There’s a lot of milling about in the direction of the farm, but there’s no one coming our way yet.”
“Alright then, so let’s talk about what just happened,” Hilt said. “Does anyone have an idea why the troll slime burned so slowly?”
“Their . . . odor was strange. Stronger than usual.” Deathclaw said. He’d been wondering about that. Why, if their smell was stronger, did their slime burn slower?
Hilt rubbed his chin. “Do you think they’re somehow related to those modified trolls?” They’d only seen regular trolls since returning from Pinewood. After all that effort spent finding pepper, fire had been the only weapon they’d needed.
Beth frowned. “Their emotions didn’t seem as complex as the modified trolls. But it can be hard to tell with moonrats controlling them.”
“Maybe they’re a mix,” Charz said. “You know, a mix of regular troll and those changed ones. Think about it. The slow way those things burned would make ‘em harder to stop on the battlefield.”
Deathclaw nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.
“That’s a possibility,” Hilt said. “The question is, what’s our next move? If the mother of the moonrats is somehow mixing modified trolls and regular ones somewhere nearby, we need to destroy that farm.”
Charz frowned. “Sounds like another long wait where I don’t get to do anything.”
“Not this . . .” Deathclaw wanted to say ‘time’. Once again his lack of lips got in the way. “Not this one. Those trolls do not . . .” He wanted to say ‘burn’! He hissed in irritation
“What he’s saying, Charz,” Beth said, stepping in to Deathclaw’s rescue. “Is that if we come up against those modified trolls, we will definitely need you. The guards will be more numerous and simply setting fire to the place won’t work on them.”
“Do you have any idea where to look?” Charz asked, perking up.
“I . . .” Deathclaw clenched his fists. He wanted to say ‘smelled’. “Scented these trolls. I can track . . . thei
r scent to know where they-uh . . .” He wanted to say, ‘Came from’. “Started.”
“You mean originated?” Charz said with a slight grin. Deathclaw couldn’t decide if the giant was mocking him or not.
“Good. That’s a start. Why don’t you do that, Deathclaw?” Hilt said, politely ignoring Deathclaw’s difficulty speaking. Beth, however, gave him an understanding look that only made it worse. “We’ll head back to camp and you can leave in the morning.”
“I will go now,” Deathclaw pronounced. He was itching to get alone for awhile. It would be good to go and track something without dealing with the others’ feelings or sense of humor.
“Wait,” Beth said. “Don’t you want to eat first?” You know it doesn’t matter to us that you have difficulty saying certain words.
Deathclaw bristled. Now she would be bothering him the whole time he was gone, trying to assuage his feelings as if he were some human. “I’ll go now.”
“Okay,” Hilt said. “Let Beth know as soon as you’ve found something.”
Deathclaw gave them a brief nod and started back towards the troll farm they had left burning. He’d see if he could catch further traces of that strong scent and track it to its source.
He brooded as he went, irritated at his difficulty with communication and irritated with Beth’s constant emotional prodding. Why did human interactions have to be so complicated? Briefly he lamented the loss of his simple raptoid life, but in truth he didn’t miss it all that much anymore. He couldn’t remember most of it anyway. The memories were hazy as if that time, those near sixty years of his life by human reckoning, were just a dream.
His thoughts shifted to Talon and the other raptoids that had surfaced. When they’d tracked Talon from Pinewood and found the raptoid corpse in the forest, he’d been so confused. How was there more? Justan had told him that the wizard had lost his ability to travel to the desert. Then he’d smelled the moonrat mother’s presence on it and a new possibility began to emerge. Why had Talon killed it if it were on the enemy’s side? Had she changed perhaps as Beth had suggested?
The Bowl of Souls: Book 05 - Mother of the Moonrat Page 34