The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (41 page)

“Are we not fairly close to the Troll Swamps here?” Jhonate asked. “I have been thinking it a strange coincidence that we learn about the Troll Mother swallowing our people at the same time that the Mer-Dan Collective wants to meet.”

“She has a good point,” Edge said, looking closer at the map. “But is there any hint that the two are related? How close is this location to the areas of the disappearances?”

“They are at least half a day’s journey west of there,” Xedrion said. He shook his head. “This location is several miles from the Troll Swamp. I see no correlation.”

The Protector of the Grove raised his arms and called out to the room. “Defenders! Roo-Tan men and women. Gather around and hear my word!”

The room quieted as everyone halted their conversations and turned their attention to their leader.

“This choice has not come to me easily, but I have made my decision regarding this treaty. We shall attend the meeting!” There was a buzz around the room as the decision was met with general excitement. “Though I do not trust the leadership of this Mer-Dan collective, we have too long been at war with our cousins. If there is a way for us to live in peace with them, we must try. That being said, we do not have to sign this treaty as it currently stands. We have a limited time to work on this and I am depending on each of you to help create the revisions that I will bring with me to the meeting.”

Once the furor had died down and the people got to work, Xedrion motioned the rest of them closer. “I do not intend to go into this meeting unprepared. Qurl and Hubrin, I want you two in charge of scouting this area. I want to know all possible locations for ambush. And be careful. The Mer-Dan will have their own men there as well. Tarah Woodblade, I would like you and your friends to go with them. I want you telling me every thought our enemy is having leading up to this meet.”

“Yes sir,” Tarah said. At least she would be doing something. She was determined to find out exactly what Aloysius was up to before this meeting happened.

Xedrion continued, “Hilt, you and I will focus on attack strategies in case things go bad. There is a very good chance they will and we may want to go on the offensive. Sir Edge and Jhonate, I am giving you perhaps the most important assignment of all. I need to formulate plans for retreat. Take every sort of treachery into account. If we get in a situation where we cannot win, I’m depending on you to get us out.”

Fist and Maryanne waited at the top of the cliff while Rufus went back down to collect the others. The gnome warrior stood at the edge and watched while the rogue horse descended, using his large, but deft fingers and clawed rear feet to help him keep a firm hold on the rocky wall. Qenzic and Locksher were waiting at the bottom, looking back up at Rufus, while Lyramoor had grown impatient and started climbing on his own.

“Ooh, they look a little green in the face,” Maryanne said, peering down at them.

Fist joined her at the edge. “How can you tell from up here? They look so small.”

Fist felt a slight tug on his hair as Squirrel peered over and looked down from the top of his head.
I see them. Green
, he agreed.

“They were looking ill while we were climbing,” she said. “Maybe this wasn’t the best route for us to take. Qenzic will pull through, but I don’t know if the wizard will be able to take it.”

“Wizard Locksher will be fine,” Fist assured her. “He can use air magic to hold on tight to Rufus.”

“Yeah, but this is just the first one. There are worse climbs to come,” Maryanne reminded him. “I think he has a fear of heights.”

Their current route to the black lake was a treacherous one, worse than the journey he and Maryanne had taken to get to the Thunder People. The multiple cliffs and unstable slopes in their way were obstacles that Fist would have chosen to avoid if possible. Unfortunately, there was no better option. The regular trails were patrolled by infested creatures.

“I am sure that Wizard Locksher can endure it,” Fist said, waving down at the two men. The wizard waved weakly back. “When he has a question in his mind, he forgets little things like fears.”

Maryanne scooted closer to him and put her arm around his waist. “You know, it’s quite a bit warmer now than the last time we were up here.”

On the journey from the black lake to the Thunder People territory, the wind had been stiff and cold. Right now the wind was deceptively warm. His arms were still wet from the water that had been dripping down the cliff face as Rufus had carried them. That concerned him because he could see dark clouds on the horizon.

Rufus reached the bottom and eagerly loaded the two men on his back. Fist waved down at them and would have called out encouragingly, but sound echoed oddly in the mountains. He could start an avalanche somewhere or worse, draw the ears of the infested dead.

He reached around Maryanne and pulled her closer to him, then pointed out the encroaching clouds. “Look. It will not be warm long. A big storm is coming. That could be bad if we are not back before it hits us.”

“Well, I won’t mind as long as you’re holding me close like this,” Maryanne teased.

Fist chuckled embarrassedly, but did not let go. The thing that had started between them while hunting down the ogres that had killed Puj had grown. At first Fist hadn’t known how to take the gnome’s constant flirting. It was suggestive, but not aggressive like ogre females. Once he had realized that she was expressing true interest and not just teasing him Fist had given the idea some real thought.

Maryanne was different from the women that he had been attracted to in the past. She was almost as tall as he was, but the gnome was thin and athletic instead of buxom and brawny like the ogre women. She also wasn’t as cerebral as the women of the other races that had fascinated him. She laughed at coarse jokes and tended to use improper grammar. In a way, she was somewhere in the middle between the things that had attracted him to women in his old life and the things that attracted him in his new one. He found that suited him quite well.

He looked at her narrow face. The wind ruffled her red hair causing the drooping top of one ear to protrude. He thought she looked beautiful. She turned her head and smiled up at him. “What?”

He felt an impulse to kiss her. She had been hinting that she wanted him to for several days now, but for some reason he kept holding back. At the moment he couldn’t think why. He leaned towards her, his lips parting just as Rufus’s hairy hand gripped the top of the cliff’s edge.

“Here!” said the rogue horse as he pulled himself up the rest of the way, the two humans on his back pale, but perfectly safe. “I not drop,” Rufus said proudly.

“No,” Locksher said weakly, releasing the many elemental spells that had tied him to the rogue horse. He slid off of Rufus’ back and stumbled a few steps. “You did quite well, thank you.”

“How are you feeling, Master?” Fist asked in concern, letting his arm drop away from Maryanne’s shoulder.

“Onwards and upwards,” Locksher replied. His hand shook visibly as he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. The wizard gestured back over his shoulder. “Do you see that storm system moving in? It is going to drop a great deal of snow on this mountain.”

“Fist was just saying that,” Maryanne said. “It could get a bit hairy for us if we get stuck in it, but snow’s a good thing, right? It’ll keep the evil from escaping and all?”

“It should be helpful for now,” Locksher agreed. “But I’m thinking that this may very well be the last big storm of the winter. It may only give us a few more days at most.”

“Then why has the Mage School been waiting?” Qenzic grumbled. “They should be on the way here now.”

“We have had this conversation before,” the wizard replied evenly. “And the answer has not changed. The High Council will not send out wizards in force until they know how many to send. And they will not know that until I tell them what they’re up against.”

“Well, you know what I think?” Lyramoor said as he hauled himself onto the ledge. As agile as the elf was, he was nowhere near as fast a climber as Rufus, a fact that, from the redness of his face, evidently frustrated him. “Someone from the academy oughta go down to the Mage School with their sword and start pokin’ wizards in the arses until they get moving!”

Fist felt that he should speak up. “The Mage School is ready to help. They are just trying to make sure that the right decision is made.”

“That’s not what Sarine says,” Maryanne replied. “She and Sherl and Beehn are pushing for the school to move. But Valtrek and the rest are dragging their heels.”

“Yes, don’t defend them. They are abominably slow to act,” Locksher said. “I had hoped this would change with the new council members, but alas this new group is just as stubborn.” The wizard sighed. “Our grumbling about it won’t do anything to move them along. Let’s get to that lake so that I can take my measurements.”

The problem stemmed from the fact that their journey to the black lake had been delayed multiple times. Locksher had wanted to head out the day after their arrival in Thunder People territory. Unfortunately the evil in the mountains had decided to increase the rate of its attacks. In the past, the dead had come to the territory once every three days. Now they came every day and in such numbers that the ogres needed the help of Fist’s tribe to fend them off.

The dead didn’t come at night because the worms still relied on the senses of the bodies they inhabited to direct them, but each morning as the sun cleared the horizon, on they came. Hundreds of mindless creatures whose only goal was to kill or infect the living. It was evident that something had stirred the evil up and Fist was fairly sure that his battle on the shores of the lake was the culprit.

The battles were long and brutal. The ogres had done this enough that they had become effective at disabling the enemy. However, they didn’t fight as a unit. The ogres would simply charge at the oncoming horde and bash away with their clubs and rocks until the enemy retreated.

Fist and Locksher sent in lightning attacks to help, but they had to be careful not to strike ogres as well. They also soon learned that electricity was only a temporary fix to the problem. When the worms infesting a body were killed, the body fell useless. But the evil seemed to understand this and was quick to send one of its dead comrades to leave more larvae on the body. Within minutes, the body reanimated again.

After the first disastrous day when four ogres were killed and five more had to be shocked clean, it was evident that the Thunder People needed more than just magical help. The academy graduates began teaching the ogres to build fortifications. It wasn’t too difficult. The ex-Stone People already knew how to build rock walls. They just needed some direction on where to put them to best help.

Lyramoor had scouted the lay of the land and knew which paths the evil used to enter the territory. They built barricades and set up choke points. They built burn piles in closer to these locations so that the dead could be disposed of more efficiently. 

The next day’s battle went much smoother. The ogres kept the dead from breaking past the barricades and, with the help of Fist’s tribe, destroyed the evil army quickly. The only people that needed to be shocked were some of the ogres working the burn piles that grew too careless handling the bodies.

The following day didn’t go as well. The dead swarmed the barricade before the ogres were ready. By the time the Thunder People retook their positions, three more ogres had died. Adjustments were made. The ogre spotters tended to get distracted or fall asleep, so Lyramoor began taking it upon himself to scout out the enemy forces each morning.

Each morning, the dead came and each day, the journey to the lake was delayed once more. The enemy made adjustments of their own. One morning large thick-skinned spiders charged and knocked the barricades over. Another morning, the dead took a different route, climbing up a steep incline to enter the territory from an unguarded area. Locksher began to wonder just how smart the evil was.

Luckily, Crag and Charz stepped up. Crag knew how to keep the ogres motivated. He was at the front of the fight each morning and was up boasting of the people’s prowess every night. Charz was in his element. The rock giant stayed at the front lines and took on any of the more dangerous beasts that entered the fray. Every once in a while, he was even able to drag Mog out of the big cave to help. Charz had befriended the netherbeast and even though Mog was lazy, his size and body dissolving saliva made him helpful to the cause.

Fist grew worried about where the evil had gotten so many bodies. Every day the ogres destroyed hordes of dead, yet every day the evil supplied more. In the beginning, the enemy was limited to goblinoid and trolls and the occasional ogre or giant. Lately, they were seeing more humans and dwarves amongst the regular fodder.

Another week went by and with the Mage School refusing to budge, Locksher had decided that the journey couldn’t be delayed another day. They had left the defense of the territory in the hands of Charz and Crag and headed out.

The dark mass of oncoming clouds was proceeded by a chill wind that buffeted the party as they climbed up and down a series of steep trails and short cliffs. Finally, they arrived at the last obstacle. It was the tallest cliff and more of a sheer climb than the first one. There were places where the cliff face bulged outward, making Rufus’ task all the more difficult.

“I think we should risk the long way around this time,” Lyramoor said, looking up at the foreboding lip of the rock ledge high above.

Rufus ran to the edge of the shelf and sniffed. “Ooh! Stinks!”
There are dead down there
, he told Fist

“Sorry, we can’t,” Fist said. “Rufus smells enemies on the trails. If we are spotted, the evil will know where we are.”

“We’re not backing down,” Locksher assured him, though his face still looked as pale as before.

The rogue horse took Fist and Maryanne up first as he had the first time. There were frightening moments where Rufus was climbing the rock face and Fist was hanging with his arms clenched around the rogue horse’s neck and Maryanne’s arms wrapped around Fist’s waist. Water dripped all around them, but the wind was quickly turning the drips to icicles. They reached the top safely, but on the way back down, Rufus took twice as long.

“It icy,” he warned the men when he reached the bottom.

The men shuddered. Lyramoor stepped back, his eyes scanning the cliff for a better route than the rogue horse had taken. The elf didn’t like the thought of trusting his life in the hands of another, even as adept a climber as Rufus, but this cliff was intimidating.

Come on, Rufus
, Fist said through the bond.
They’re scared. Encourage them
.

Okay
, Rufus replied hesitantly. Talking wasn’t his strong suit.

“Ooh! Uh. Ooh! You not die,” the rogue horse promised in his huffing staccato voice. The men gave each other wary looks. Lyramoor approached the cliff, but Rufus patted the elf’s back, his large hand covering him from shoulders to buttocks. “You ride this time.”