The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9)

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The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) Page 25

by Trevor H. Cooley


  “Yeah, but he used magic of some sort,” Tarah explained. “It had something to do with special water he kept in his skin? I don’t know for sure. That part wasn’t clear. But he somehow mushed his body through the screen and went plop into the canal below.”

  “Did you learn anything about his intentions?” Jhonate asked.

  “He’s a sly fellow, that one,” Tarah said, thumbing through the memories in her mind. “The whole time he’s been here, he’s been thinking of ways he could manipulate the Protector.”

  “He did claim to be an ambassador,” Edge suggested. “That pretty much describes his job.”

  “In what way was he seeking to manipulate me?” Xedrion asked.

  “It’s not all clear. I just catch glimpses,” she reminded him. “But from what I gathered, he’s been trying to get you to agree to meet with his people. Some sort of treaty. He thought about the word treaty quite a bit.”

  “Yes, but is it legitimate?” Jhonate asked.

  “In his mind it is,” Tarah replied. “He thinks it’s very important.”

  “Does he think to trap me at this meeting?” Xedrion asked. He was still looking out the window at the canal below, his face thoughtful.

  Tarah scratched her head. “I don’t know. He just wanted to make sure and convince you to go when the time was right. He wasn’t thinking about murder or anything like that, though he did think about maiming the cooks. He really hates the taste of cooked bananas.”

  “If he was so sincere about his job, then why did he leave?” the Protector wondered.

  “Well, I did find this,” Tarah said, holding out a letter that had been folded and sealed with wax. “It was under his mattress. He thought that you wouldn’t find it until the servants cleaned the room later today. I didn’t read it, but his feelings when he was holding it were sincere.”

  The Protector took the letter and broke the seal. As he read it a worried look appeared on his face. He folded it back up.

  “What did he say, Father?” Jhonate asked.

  “He says that he figured he had accomplished everything here that he was going to accomplish and he was suspicious that I wasn’t likely to let him go,” Xedrion said. “He adds that he has gone to warn his people about the demon army that is approaching and that he will contact me again once his people are ready to sign the treaty.”

  “May I touch the inside of the letter, sir?” Tarah asked. “The ink won’t tell me much, but wherever he touched it with his hands . . .” The Protector handed it over to her and Tarah ran her fingers down the page. A slight smile hit her face. “This last part, where he says he meant to warn his people about the demons? He was lying about that. He already knew that they were coming. Is that the information that you gave him this morning?”

  “It was,” Xedrion said.

  “Then that’s it,” Tarah replied. “His surprise was that Aloysius was here so quickly. He wanted to go back to his people so that he could receive new instructions.”

  The Protector cocked his head at her. “You are sure of this?”

  “Yes! I mean, he didn’t think those exact thoughts specifically, but when I add all the pieces together it fits. He was waiting for something and when you told him that the army was coming, he knew it was time.”

  “Perhaps you are right,” Xedrion said. He took the letter from her and folded it back up before slipping it into his pocket. “But we have no proof that his treaty isn’t real.”

  “We know that Aloysius wants to conquer the grove and the ambassador wants to go and speak to him. That has to be part of his plans,” Tarah insisted.

  “You did not see that exact thought coming from the ambassador,” Xedrion said. “I can see why you make those assumptions, but I need conclusive proof!”

  “But sir, I already know that Aloysius is evil. I’ve seen what he does!” Tarah said.

  “That will be enough for now, Miss Woodblade. We have time to verify all your theories,” he replied, his voice steady, but tinged with anger at being challenged by a relative stranger.

  “Of course, sir,” Tarah said, bowing her head. She wanted to keep yelling until he got it through his thick skull, but she couldn’t afford to push him further. Not yet. She would find that proof he was looking for and then he would see that crushing Aloysius was the best way for him to make sure that the grove was safe.

  “Then what do we do now, father?” Jhonate asked.

  “We will continue to gather information from our spies among the Roo-Dan,” Xedrion said. “We can also have Miss Woodblade examine the tracks of their troops. By the time this ‘Mer-Dan Collective’ sends word that this treaty is ready, we will have a better idea how to react.”

  Sir Edge cleared his throat. “Um, Protector sir, Gwyrtha says that Hilt and Beth are here. They are heading this way to meet us.”

  “Very well,” said Xedrion. “I suppose we should go out and greet them. I have been wanting to speak with Hilt anyway.”

  “Oh, this is the Beth I’m supposed to train with?” Tarah asked.

  “That would be her,” Jhonate replied.

  Sir Edge raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen her yet? I assumed that since you were from Pinewood that she would have come to visit you by now.”

  “What does Pinewood have to do with it?” Tarah wondered

  “Alright, where is Tarah Woodblade?” echoed a female voice from out in the hallway.

  They stepped outside of the room and Tarah’s eyes widened in surprise. “Beth Puddle?”

  Tarah had known this woman since before her father died. Beth and her husband had always been kind to them and had fed them a few times when they were in town. She had even sent business Tarah’s way after Grampa Rolf died when Tarah was still building her reputation as a guide. She looked good, much better than the last time Tarah had seen her. Which was a good thing, since Tarah had thought she was dead.

  “Tarah Woodblade, the hero of Pinewood!” Beth proclaimed, walking towards her with arms outstretched. A sandy haired gentleman with swords on each hip was walking behind her. He was holding a red-headed baby in his arms.

  Beth embraced Tarah, then pulled back, beaming. “The survivors from town told me all about what you did for them during the war.”

  “They exaggerated,” Tarah assured her, returning her smile. “I must say that you are the last person I thought I would see in Malaroo.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You have been out of the loop, haven’t you?” Beth said. “I’m sorry I hadn’t been by to see you here sooner. Since Hilt has been staying away from Xedrion’s meetings, we haven’t been getting news very quickly.”

  Tarah shook her head in disbelief. “Did you know that the Pinewood mayor hired me to track you down after you went missing? Followed your tracks to the edge of the dark forest before they disappeared. It was the first time I ever lost a quarry.” Tarah didn’t add that she had read suicidal thoughts in Beth’s tracks that day. Beth had intended to go and fight the mother of the moonrats bare handed and hadn’t expected to survive.

  “And did the great Tarah Woodblade end up admitting that to the mayor?” Beth asked in amusement.

  “I ended up telling the mayor that you had met some stranger and run off with him,” Tarah admitted. “How did you end up here?”

  Beth smiled. “Well, to make a long story short, I met a stranger and I ran off with him.”

  The man that had come in with her chuckled. “And in the middle of that she discovered she had spirit magic powers, helped save the grove and helped win the war against Ewzad Vriil and the moonrat mother.”

  “Don’t forget the part where we adopted a child,” Beth said chidingly. “Tarah, this is my husband, Sir Hilt and our daughter, Sherl-Ann.”

  “Hello,” Tarah said, noticing the naming rune on the back of the man’s hand for the first time.

  Beth put her hands on her hips. “Now I understand that Tolynn has decided that I am to take you on as a pupil?”

  “Something like that,
” Tarah replied hesitantly. “She said she’s too busy to teach me everything herself. So I’m supposed to spend time with both of you.”

  “Yes, well she certainly didn’t think it prudent to ask me first.” Beth said with faux irritation. “I suppose I owe her a favor though.” She gave Tarah an assessing look. “You don’t mind me listening to you do you?”

  “You mean that thing where you lift my arms and-.” Beth grasped Tarah’s arms and lifted them into the air and poked and prodded her a bit before placing an ear against Tarah’s chest. “. . . do this thing,”

  Beth’s listening took longer than Tolynn’s had and when the woman pulled back, she had a calculating look on her face. “You know, Tarah, you’re not in as bad a situation as you think. You do have some rather hard decisions coming up, though.”

  Tarah wondered what the woman had seen. What situation was Beth talking about and what decisions did she have coming? Before Tarah could ask her, the woman was speaking again.

  “Hilt, I feel good about this one. I think I’ll put her in the guest house out back. We’ll need to ask our neighbors if we can borrow some spare reed beds.”

  “Excuse me?” Tarah said.

  “Well, you’re gonna be a very busy woman for a while,” Beth replied in explanation. “Tolynn’s going to want you all morning long and I’m certain Xedrion’s going to need you at whatever time of the day for this and that, which means I’m gonna have to find time somewhere in the middle. Therefore, you’re staying at my place.”

  Tarah opened her mouth, but Beth raised a quick hand. “Before you protest, my house is much closer to the grove and it’s a whole lot less stuffy and boring than this palace. Oh, and I’ll be taking in your friends too. The ones that want to come, that is.”

  “You saw about them when you were ‘listening’ to me?”

  “Sure,” she said gesturing absently. “Willum and the gnome warrior and the dwarf you’re in love with. Don’t worry. They’re welcome. Hilt can always use some sparring partners and they can pay me back by helping around the house.”

  “Do I get a say in this?” Hilt asked.

  Beth looked back over her shoulder at him. “You married me.”

  Hilt sighed and looked at Xedrion. The Protector shrugged. “Do not look to me for help. I have seven wives of my own.”

  “And I picked you for a friend,” Hilt grumbled.

  “The best I can do is take you away for a few minutes,” Xedrion suggested. “Beth, I need to speak with your husband about something. Come, Hilt.”

  “Sure,” Hilt said. He turned to Beth and held out the child. “Looks like I have a meeting.”

  Beth rolled her eyes and took Sherl-Ann from him. The baby didn’t seem to care which parent she was with, yawning during the transfer. “Don’t you be too late now, understand me?”

  “Just a moment. Sir Hilt, before you go?” said Sir Edge, catching the attention of Beth’s new husband. He gave Hilt and Beth a proud smile. “I wish to announce to both of you that the Protector has approved my marriage to Jhonate.”

  A wide smile split Hilt’s face. “He has?” He glanced over at Xedrion, who smiled and nodded. “Ha!” Hilt said. He embraced Sir Edge and Jhonate in turn. “I am so happy for you two. Have you decided when this is going to happen?”

  “There are several complications to iron out,” Sir Edge replied. “My family is far away and so is Fist. I would want them to be here for it.”

  “And it will have to wait until this situation on our border is resolved,” Xedrion added.

  Beth giggled. “Oh, I am so excited! Just a second, I’m gonna hug you two! Here, Tarah.” She thrust the baby into Tarah’s arms.

  “Wait,” Tarah said, wincing, but it was too late. The moment she grasped the child, its memories flooded her mind. It was a far different experience than seeing the memories of the ancient trees. This child was less than a year old and its senses weren’t fully developed. The result was that, instead of flying by at lightning speed, her memories were vivid and slightly distorted.

  First came a memory of being in the arms of a raving woman whose face was streaked with tears. Then a nightmarish creature with cat-like eyes and puffy lips appeared and covered it with kisses. That face was replaced by kind eyes that Tarah recognized right away as belonging to the Prophet. This child had spent quite some time with him before ending up in the arms of Beth and Hilt.

  When it was over, Tarah stared at the baby in astonishment. She had seen a very similar set of memories not long ago, from the child Coalvin back in Coal’s Keep. She looked to Beth, who had just finished embracing the betrothed couple. “Beth, th-this baby . . . I just saw-.”

  Beth slid over and placed her hand on Tarah’s shoulder. “Don’t say everything you know, dear.”

  “Right,” Tarah said, wondering what it was that made these two babies so special and why the Prophet would have gone to all the trouble of bringing them to separate mothers in different countries. She looked into Sherl-Ann’s clear blue eyes. “None of my business anyway.”

  Beth threw her arm around Tarah’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Oh, we are going to learn a lot together, you and I.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Troll King sat in the Lone Chair and looked out over the swamp lake before him. The air in Solitude was still. The thick canopy of vegetation surrounding the lake was a barrier to the wind and kept out the sounds of his people working in the city beyond. The only sounds here were the occasional frog chirp and the odd caws of the lalas, long-necked birds with bright green plumage who subsisted primarily on tad poles and the few species of fish that could survive among the slime-infested waters.

  Of course, all that was changing now. The trollkin had managed to unclog the ancient series of canals that had once been the streets of KhanzaRoo. The ancient Roo capital was once again being flooded with fresh clean water.

  Every day, the city became cleaner as more channels were opened. He could already see the results here in the lake of Solitude. He smiled at the thought of how much less troll slime there was than before. Of course, the Troll Swamps would never be completely cleared, but the Troll King could now imagine the day when KhanzaRoo was once more the great city it had once been.

  A peace settled over him at that thought. For a few brief minutes, the weight of his responsibilities eased and he was able to forget that he was a king. He was able to simply exist. He reflected on the beauty of the lake, unbothered by the fact that the womb of the Troll Mother lurked just beneath its calm surface. For that short period of time it was as if he were human again.

  The thought startled him and he shook his head, the peaceful moment gone. Human again? What had that meant? He raised his hands and looked at them. Both had the same greenish tint to their skin, but his left hand was long-fingered and wickedly clawed, the hand of a troll, while his right hand was squat fingered and powerful, the hand of a human. Was this the reason for the thought?

  He searched his memories for an understanding, but there was nothing to explain it. He was only ever trollkin. He had been born their king. As for why his body was partly human, any time he had presented this question to the Mother, her only response had been an outpouring of love and an assurance that things were as they should be.

  “Murtha,” he said, calling to the part-dwarf who stood just a few paces to his right, her form still and silent.

  The trollkin female jerked, startled from a reverie of her own. “Yes, my k-king?”

  “I am disturbed, my friend,” he said.

  “You, my k-king?” she asked, surprise in her voice.

  The king frowned. He rarely expressed his doubts to the other trollkin, after all as king he should be the rock, unyielding in his convictions. But this was Murtha, one of the few members of his people that was willing to question him. It was the main reason he had decided to keep her at his side.

  “I just had a thought, almost a dream,” he began.

  “A dream?” Murtha asked. She turned t
o face him, her gray eyes curious. “Was it about the hunger?”

  “No,” he said. Though he understood why she might think so. All of the trollkin struggled with the hunger; the desire to consume any living thing they came upon. The feeling was voracious and constant and some struggled with it more than others. The cravings were strongest when waking. The king understood that this was because of the trollish part of their makeup, though he didn’t understand why this was so. “No, my dream had to do with being human.”

  She looked down, a little embarrassed. “Sometimes I dream that I am a dwarf. Well, part dwarf and part human. But in these dreams there is no hunger and none of me is troll.”

 

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