The Ogre Apprentice (49 page)

The king watched this alluring creature and knew that she was dangerous. The Mother told him not to trust her. However . . . “Show me one of your uses, snake woman. How can you help the Troll Mother? Why should I let you serve me?”

She swayed over to the doorway and reached out to Khurley, beckoning him with a writhing finger. The guard looked at the king questioningly and the king gave him a nod. He stepped forward and she placed a hand on the thick muscles of his chest.

“The ‘Mother’, praise her name, has done an admirable job in creating her children. Strong. Fierce. Hardy.” She reached up and the guard bent so that she could easily reach his misshapen face. She caressed the lumpy side of his head. “There are, nonetheless, some deficiencies. Through no fault of her own, of course. That is where I can help.”

She took a step back from the guard and reached out her hands. Her fingers writhed bonelessly and Khurley cried out. His skull swelled and shifted, his features smoothing out. The process took several seconds and when she dropped her hands, the guard gripped his head with unbelieving fingers.

His head was now proportionate with his body. His face was still a mix of troll and man, but it was a good mix, his beady eyes were spaced evenly. His human mouth was no longer crooked.

“Look at me!” Khurley exclaimed, tears in his eyes. “What do I look like?”

“You are beautiful!” Mellinda exclaimed.

The Troll King watched with grim fascination, finding her process both disturbing and fascinating. Could this be the answer to his problems? “Can you do it again?”

“Of course, my king,” Mellinda purred.

She beckoned the other guard. Moments later, the part-elf ran his hands down a body that now only shimmered with a slight sheen of slime.

The king smiled. It was as he had hoped. In the vision his goddess had given him, this woman had used similar power. He grew eager to see just how much she could accomplish. How many of the Mother’s children could be saved?

The woman looked back at the king and approached him with that same swaying step. She placed a foot on the first stair of the throne and Murtha growled. “Get back-k from the k-king!”

The woman paused and gave her a pitying look. “Poor thing. May I fix that mouth of yours?”

“No!” the part-dwarf snarled.

“It is alright, Murtha,” said the king. “She may approach me.”

Mellinda stepped right up the stairs of the throne and leaned in, looking him in both eyes. There was no trepidation in them. No disgust at his appearance. “And how might I serve you?”

The Troll King felt an unexpected stirring within his chest, but he pushed it away. “Perhaps I do have need of someone like you.” He stood. “Come with me, snake woman. I would take you to the Mother’s womb.”

*          *          *

Matthew was so focused on his mental calculations that he was startled by the expected knock at his door. He took a slow breath to compose himself and leaned back in his chair as he shouted, “Come in! Just leave your boots inside the door!”

The door swung open and a tall gnome stepped inside. “Greetings. Do I have the pleasure of speaking with the Stranger?”

“Do I look strange to you?” Matthew asked. Usually, he would have identified the gnome by now. His master would have filled his mind with the things he needed to know about his visitor. This time, he heard nothing. Matthew was forced to use experience to size him up.

The gnome had a youthful look about him. He had a full head of black hair that he wore slicked back and his large ears only drooped slightly. He wore fine scholar’s robes, but he didn’t stand with the usual hunch of the scholar. This gnome stood with the straight backed posture and easy grace of a warrior. This was the warlord that John had warned him about.

The gnome let out an amused chuckle and clasped his hands together. “It was not an easy thing, finding your domicile.”

“I don’t send out invitations,” Matthew replied. He took a long draw on his pipe. “So what do you want, warlord?”

The gnome’s smile grew thin. “I am Scholar Aloysius, from house Mur. I am here to make a request.”

“A request?” Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Folks don’t usually bring an army with them just to make a request.”

“They do when they want to request something from a god,” Aloysius said and two men entered the room. They were human stewards, wearing white robes with red sashes. “Stranger, I would like you to meet Shade and Andrew.”

“You need to bring thugs with you to make this request?” Matthew replied. He folded his arms in front of him. “Oh I can’t wait to hear what it is.”

“Ah, I suppose I should get right to the point, then.” He smiled again and this time it was genuine. He snapped his fingers and the two men walked towards Matthew and grasped his arms.

“Stop!” Matthew said, calling on the power of his authority. Nothing happened. They should not have been unable to resist that command. It was worse than he thought.

“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time, Stranger,” Aloysius said. “I have been watching the signs. I have been stretching my legs, building power, waiting to see if you would respond. When you didn’t, I knew the day had finally come.”

He reached into his scholars’ robes and withdrew a thin, polished blade from a sheath hidden inside. “You have lost favor with your master.”

“And what do you think you’re going to do with that?” Matthew asked. The sword shone with the glow of spirit magic. It was etched with bewitching runes. He swallowed. He knew which sword that was. How did this gnome get hold of it?

“You’re wondering if I am planning to kill you,” Aloysius said. He twirled the blade through his fingers with practiced dexterity. “I considered it. Two questions popped into my mind. First, would your master allow it? I had my doubts. Then I wondered, if he did allow it, if I managed to slay the Stranger, what would happen? Would our population controls be released? Or would things worsen? Worse yet, would your master simply appoint an unknown replacement? Too risky.”

Aloysius stepped closer and lifted the sword up over Matthew’s head. He pressed the sword tip against his left shoulder blade. “Finally I decided that there was only one acceptable solution.” In one smooth motion, he stabbed down diagonally with the sword, sliding the blade under the skin of the Stranger’s back, starting at his left shoulder and ending at his right hip. “I would just have to take control.”

Matthew was so shocked that he didn’t even feel the pain. The Creator had allowed him to be stabbed. The magic of the sword had penetrated his defenses. A wave of compulsion came over him and for the first time in thousands of years, he felt fear.

The gnome warlord smiled at his reaction. “Stranger, I am here on behalf of the blood magic and demon races. It’s time that you set us free.”

The Bowl of Souls series will continue in

The Jharro Grove Saga: Book Four

The Troll King

Coming 2015

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