“Daphie...”
“You’re a bastard.” I didn’t look to see his reaction, though I was sorely tempted.
From behind me, he exhaled sharply, as if he’d just been kicked by a mule.
Good.
“Could you… could you say something else?” his voice quavered a little, as if he was reaching deep down for the guts to talk to me.
“I hate you?” I offered. I still didn’t spare him a glance, he didn’t deserve it.
“But you loved me once...” I could hear his footsteps almost directly behind me, heavy but hesitant, unsure of their welcome.
“So did you,” I reminded him, “and then I gave my life in exchange for yours, and you took my love, smashed it, and married my sister. Oh, who is now having your child!” I didn’t look back as I kept my eyes straight ahead, walking briskly towards the house.
“Won’t you let me have my say?” he called to my retreating back.
“I hope you didn’t trouble yourself, coming out here just to say that. I can assure you, you’ll be sorely disappointed.”
“Ottie, uh, Otvla wanted to come have dinner with you.”
Snorting contemptuously, I laughed and shook my head. “No, she didn’t. She came to rub it in.” To gloat.
“I still love you, Daphie.” The desperation in his voice didn’t tug at me, not a wit, and I felt no remorse, no compunction whatsoever as I rounded the house and marched determinedly inside.
Otvla and Mamma were seated together at the table, their heads close together as they tittered over baby clothes and tiny little pink and blue blankets and booties, hushing upon my sudden entry.
Looking straight ahead, I barely spared them a glance as I went to the basin to wash up before dinner.
Papa and Trystan came in, talking about livestock as I finished up and helped Mamma set the table.
A flash of red caught my eye and I glanced up to see a rather large, shiny ruby dangling between Otvla’s very petite breasts, nestled between the low cut ‘v’ of her dress.
With shaking hands, I set my plate down and just stared at it.
“How do you have that?” I demanded, the supposed family heirloom, the one that Troll had said was paste and then bitten into itty bitty pieces to prove his point, was right before my eyes, nestled in between my sister’s miniscule bosom, mocking me.
My eyes went to Mamma and Papa’s, and I had my answer.
What little was left of my heart and subsequently me, who I’d always thought of myself as, broke when Mamma’s face reddened and Papa’s paled. Neither one of them could meet my eyes.
Blinking rapidly, throat tight, chest even tighter, I stumbled backwards, knocking a stack of plates over, ignoring the crunch of them under my booted feet as I waded through them blindly.
“You knew.” It wasn’t an accusation, it was the truth, plain and simple. They’d known. Hell, they’d done it! They’d tricked me and handed me over to a troll! My own family... “How could you?”
Trystan’s puzzled gaze went around the room, frowning, disconcerted.
Otvla must have been told, the look on her face as she fingered her ruby necklace gingerly, covetously, the real ruby necklace, saying it all and then some, better than any words she could have possibly uttered.
“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I pushed past everyone, shaking my head wildly, “I’m so stupid.”
Storming in, I entered my old room and didn’t waste any time.
Emptying out the case Mamma made to hold my pillow, I dumped the old lumpy pillow, made from all of my old dresses as stuffing and shaped into a funny rectangle, out onto my bed, my old bed, dumping out all of my belongings from my small dresser as I started to fill it.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer my father as I hefted my filled sack over my shoulder and walked silently, determinedly, from the room.
“Daphedaenya?” Trystan tried to step in front of me, blocking my exit.
“Get out of my way or I’ll show your new wife how well you scream like a little girl.”
Trystan’s jaw dropped and Otvla stormed over to us.
“You can’t talk to him like that!” She puffed up her chest importantly and gave me what she must have thought was a scathing glance.
Matching her glare for glare, I was unmoved. She looked ridiculous.
I would have laughed in her face if I was a lesser person. I’ve been living with a troll for the past six months. A living, breathing, seething troll. Is she serious?
“Of course I can!” I shouted, feeling slightly mollified when she squeaked like a frightened little mouse and ducked behind her huge husband. “I can say whatever I want to the little pisser! I gave my life up for him!”
“You what?” Mamma and Papa chorused.
“Daphie… Daphie-girl…” Trystan twisted his hat in his hands, mangling it beyond use, those brown eyes I’d once loved so much looking large and pleading, “Please, don’t go. We can talk about this. Just tell me…”
“Don’t you Daphie me, you weak hearted…. Ninna-witty!” I spluttered, my lips running away with my tongue, blurting it right out there. I had no idea if that was even a real word, madder than I’d ever thought possible, but it sounded good enough to me, so I went with it. “Your Daphie-girl is gone!” I bellowed, shaking a pointed finger at him, uncaring if the entire village heard. “How long did you wait, I wonder, before you married my sister? A week? A day? A month? Hmm?”
The silence that swept over the room at that was beyond telling, just as telling as Trystan’s red face. “You know what? Bollocks! Bollocks on all of it!”
If mouths gaped open slightly at my newly acquired dirty mouth, I pretended I didn’t notice.
“I don’t care!” I tossed my hands up. “This is all just a great big farce, anyways! Right? Well, I’ll have the last say, and I say bollocks! Bollocks with you all!” Arms tucked in, I stuck my elbows out and pushed my way through, Trystan’s grunt of pain as he went tumbling back music to my ears.
In the back of my mind, past the anger and the hurt, I hoped like hell I’d said and used that right—bollocks. Not one for using such dirty words, I’d heard Troll say it so many times, and it sounded positively horrible to me—bollocks this and bollocks on that. I don’t know, I was just so mad and it just sort of… popped out.
Not very lady like, but I’m not overly worried about that anymore.
I’ll always be seen as unclean, as Mamma says—unmarriageable—dirty—so, hah, on that! I can say whatever I want.
Truth be told, it had felt good, really good, a little exhilarating being a little bad. I almost felt like saying it again, among a few other choice words I’d only dared myself to think, let alone utter aloud, just to do it.
“Daphedaenya?!”
Pausing only for a moment, I stopped at the edge of the cobbled steps, right before they ended and the dirt road began.
Head turning ever so slowly, I spared the two men I’d once thought I’d loved, and loved me in return, a glance, the special women in their lives huddled quietly behind them.
“Where are you going? What’s going on with the jewels? What happened? Please, won’t you come back inside and talk? It’s getting pitched black out. It’s not safe for you.” Trystan couldn’t speak fast enough, blurting it all out in a worried rush.
Not safe for me? Me? The woman who’s been playing house with a perpetually pissy troll with a chip on his shoulder? Hah!
How lovely. The scowl on my face accompanied that thought. Oh, now he cares? I thought snidely, the look I gave him nothing short of scathing.
“You don’t understand, Daphie, I… We… I never thought… I didn’t…” Papa was scrambling at what to say.
“How did she give her life for you, Trys?” Otvla demanded. “She took my place. That had nothing to do with you. I’m the one carrying your babe, me, not her, how did she give her life, hmmm?”
Eyes filling, Trystan’s face crumpled, staring mournfully afte
r me. “She traded my life in exchange for hers so the troll wouldn’t kill me.”
“What did you do?” Papa growled, distracted at that bit of news.
“I… I tried to kill it, to save her.”
“You what?!!” Papa roared.
“Trystan!” Otvla hissed.
“Nathem, no! Oh!” Mamma shouted.
By this point I couldn’t make out their voices any more as they all started shouting at each other, the cacophony of their noise slowly fading, along with some scuffling and grunting, as I trooped off down the road, the glowing stone I pulled out of my pocket lighting the way.
Take me back, I thought, clutching the stone tight.
Bridging The Gap
Slumped and dejected, I sat between two wooden planks of dubious stability, my feet dangling over the side as I stared down at the rushing river water dashing about, hurdling and churning as it sped by, so low beneath my feet.
Every so often some of the water would splash my exposed skin, but I left it, watching as it eventually rolled down like little teardrops, tumbling right back into the river.
“A toll,” that deep voice I know so well grumbled. I was surprised it had taken him so long, I’d been sitting here for the better part of an hour.
“You’re getting slow in your dotage,” I mumbled, not bothering to look up.
The sack containing all of my worldly belongings rustled next to me as I started swinging my feet back and forth, causing it to slide down my side a little more as it leaned heavily against me.
“Nugget?” The confusion in his voice was almost hilarious.
I was sure, if I’d looked, I would have found a look of supreme befuddlement to complement.
Thrusting my wrist up, I held up my hand and waved it, motioning for him to take what I was offering.
Slowly reaching forward, he took it, the wood of the old rickety bridge protesting his solid, heavy weight.
“What’s this about, then?”
Muffling a small sob, I shrugged. “It’s my toll.” Carefully, I slowly wiped the tears drifting down my cheeks before the river could have them, sniffling as I wrapped my arms around myself in a comfortless hug.
“Tis a stockin’.”
Lips trembling, though I pinched them tight, I sniffled again and swiped at my eyes once more, using my dry sleeve. “Yup.”
“A stockin’?”
“Uh-huh.”
Now that’s one I hadn’t heard from him in a while—incredulity. How fun, he’s running the gamut in the emotions department today. Yippee.
Guess that makes two of us.
“A stockin’, nugget, fer a fee?”
A smart one, isn’t he?
With a heavy sigh, I leaned my forehead carefully onto one of the shaking railings. It made a weird crunching noise, as if something inside of it was weakening and might, at some point, any moment now, give.
Maybe it will break and I’ll fall, tumbling into the icy depths, never to be seen or heard from again as the river carries me off.
I snorted at the path my dark thoughts had taken, peeking down once more to stare off after the rushing water below. But it won’t, and I won’t.
No. Life is never really that kind. Not to me.
“Nugget?”
Shaking my head from my musings, I glanced up at him.
A small smile kicked up the corners of my lips at the truly perplexed look on his face.
“The stockin’?” He waved the balled up bit I’d handed him, his neck craning, peering over a little to see that I was minus one, my pale legs exposed as my hiked up dress ballooned around me, making room so I could sit with my feet between the questionable piece of wood they were sectioned off between, straddling it, one on either side.
“I said you could gag me if…” my voice caught. “If… uh, you know… so, I thought, there you go.”
“Ye want ta be gagged? Am I hearin’ ye right?”
With a bit of humor I didn’t quite feel, I chuckled a little and slowly stood up. “A deal’s a deal, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“But what?” Scuffing the toe of my boot, I kicked a pebble at my feet and bent down to pick up my sack, slinging it over my shoulder. “Don’t sound so shocked and don’t pretend you don’t want to. You’ve been dying to strangle me the moment I stumbled into this place.” Staring down at my feet, I laughed bitterly as I squeezed past him. “No, wait, you already did that.”
Troll growled from behind me as my boots hit squishy, wet ground, but I just kept on walking.
My skin prickled as I picked my way through the tall grass that had grown long and wild, out of control these past few months, gone up past my knees.
Tromping his way past, Troll took the lead, gaining ahead of me. He stopped as we reached the entrance to the only home I’d now ever know.
The wind knocking right out of me, I grunted as he pushed me into the side of the rock wall, my mouth dropping open in shock as he pressed himself roughly against me.
Without another word, he shoved my rolled up stocking in my mouth and grinned, pushing away as he walked towards the fire place pit and the meat he had roasting on it. “Ye know, nugget, ye’re right. A deal’s a deal.”
With a startled shriek, I cursed at him from around a mouthful of balled up stocking, glaring at his retreating back.
“Dinna be bashful now, nugget,” he chuckled evilly, “tell me how ye really feel.”
My answer was a pathetic attempt at a growl, falling sadly short of anything Troll could have ever produced, followed by a gag as the taste of foot sweat registered on my tongue.
****
“I really canna let ye stay, ye know.” He frowned and scratched at the back of his head, staring off to the side as he bit off a hunk of meat, chewing thoughtfully.
My eyes shot up from my own chunk of meat I was picking at. Some kind of large, bird type creature, he’d told me. A gryph-phon leg? Whatever that was. I was just thankful for a full belly. “What do you mean?”
Lifting a thick wrist, he waved the meaty bone he’d been eating off of at me. “We made a deal, a week for the locket. I canna go back on it. Deal’s a deal. Ye canna be stayin’.”
Mouth gaping, I spluttered, stunned, knocking over the wooden cup I’d been sipping out of as he looked away uncomfortably, grunted, and went back to his food. I set my plate down and clenched my shaking hands in my lap.
Could my life get any more complicated or difficult?
“But… where will I go?” My voice came out tinny and tiny, sad, even to my ears. I couldn’t help it and I didn’t know if I could handle any more unexpected news today.
Your parents don’t really love you. Yep. Though that’s really no surprise, all things considered.
Sister married your lover. Check.
The troll you’ve been forced to work for, been tricked by, traded in for your sister, and, oh, happens to be a big, grumbly, brutish lout, says you can’t stay, yet you must come back after the week is up or he’ll hunt you down. Uh-huh. Cross that off the list.
Wow. Will the crap storm never end? I wondered. Or will I always be defecated on by life’s little surprises?
“Dunno,” Troll shrugged his massive shoulders, “better figure it out, though. Gettin’ too late to find ye way if ye wait too long. That stone willna be glowin’ for ye forever, ye know.”
A moment of panic hit me, and then surprise, following closely on its heels, shocking me that I could be so upset at the idea of leaving this place, the home of my captor, and now, as I’m indebted to him for the rest of my life, my home.
The panic I felt was real and growing, swelling as the reality of my situation sank in. Much as I didn’t want to admit it, I needed him now.
“You can’t be serious?” I pinched my lips shut when it came out high and squeaky, distressed.
The troll who’d ruined my life is the only one I can count on now for shelter. After how things went at home, I’m now on my own. Not that I’d go back, e
ven if I could. Sadly, Troll’s all I have left.
Where will I go if I can’t stay here? What will I do?
I have no money, no place to go, no one who I could count on to help me. If what Mamma was thinking is true, and I know it is, I’d be shunned by all, for sure. All those women I’d known at the market place? Gone. I’m friendless. The people of the small village I’d lived in my whole life, while eager enough to help a fellow neighbor, were quick to judge and quick to follow. After knowing what sort of fate befell me, they’d all stand by idly and watch me die before they’d extend a helping hand.
“As a heart attack.”
“I have nowhere else to go!” I cried, hopping up as I paced nervously in front of the spot I’d taken across the fire from him.
The bucket I’d turned upside down to sit on fell to the floor with a loud clank, clattering noisily as it rolled.
“Not me problem, nugget.” Troll snorted and wiped his mouth off on his arm before he went back to his supper. A pained look crossed his sullen features but he hid it.
“How can you be so heartless?” I railed. “Don’t you have any compassion in you at all?”
“Go back home,” he grumbled around a mouthful of bread, “isna tha’ what ye been belly achin’ ‘bout for, eh? Go back ta them, then, hmm?”
I didn’t answer, my shoulders slumping as I stared off into the fire.
“Well, I’m done.” Troll tossed his meat-picked bone into the fire, stuffing the last bit of his bread in his mouth before standing up, swallowing and chugging his ale to wash it all down. “Best get on wit’ ya, nugget. Go an’ let ‘em kiss yer ass fer bein’ maggots, as I be wantin’ ta guess they did. Dinna forgive ‘em, but let ‘em talk ye inta stayin’.” Orange eyes glowing, he tossed his head at me and smirked. “Have a bit of a laugh at their expense when ye’re alone, eh? An’ dinna forget, tis only ‘til week’s end, an’ no more.”
“I can’t go back!” I bellowed to his retreating back. “I can’t ever go back! I’m done, and I won’t.”
He stopped and slowly rolled his shoulders. “Oh? That so?”
The Toll Page 11