The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (47 page)

The smug look on Aloysius’ face faded. “I see that a little bird has been tweeting lies in your ear. The war in my country is not one that I started. It is however, something that I admit I encouraged. The government has been too long lenient with the dark wizards. It was far past time that they were rooted out. From the last reports I have heard, that work is nearly done. I will leave here and return to a kingdom cleansed of evil.”

He clasped his hands in front of him and leaned forward, his gaze earnest and intense. “As for the rogue horse incident, that was a mistake on my part. Regrettable, but something I cannot take back. Only learn from. I will not seek to bind a rogue horse again. That I promise you. I will not, however, promise what else the dead wood will or will not be used for.

“Let me be frank with you, Protector. I am building this empire for a reason. It is a just and noble cause. A great evil is coming. I have seen the portents and what I do now is to prepare the way for the defense of the known lands. Now you may not like my tactics, Protector. You may not like me. However, what I do is for your benefit and the benefit of all life and I will not allow anyone, no matter how noble their intentions, to stand in my way.”

“Warlord Aloysius,” said the Stranger suddenly. “If I might make a suggestion.”

Aloysius froze and turned a bland look the Stranger’s way. He hid it well, but Xedrion could tell that he had not expected any interruptions from his supposed impartial witness. “You wish to speak, Stranger?”

“May I? It’s nothing really. Just a small suggestion. It will not interfere in your negotiation. I promise. It may even help.”

“Why are you so hesitant, Stranger?” Tolynn asked. “You are one of the supreme authorities in the land, after all. I would almost believe that he really is controlling you.”

“What is your suggestion?” Aloysius asked, his tone dark.

“Only this.” He gave the gnome a warning look and said with specific tone. “Don’t use the big stick.”

The gnome’s jaw clenched. “I do what needs to be done and nothing more,” Aloysius said grimly. As he spoke that last statement, a hardness entered Aloysius’ eyes that Xedrion had seen in men before. Always just before they did something awful.

As if on cue, a series of reports came in from several of the rings on his finger. The scouts were reporting a strange fog approaching from the south. Fog would usually not be cause for alarm, but this was heading in a line unaffected by the wind and it was headed right along the stream that led to the valley.

The gnome stood. “I believe we have discussed most of what there is to discuss. My offer has been fair and beneficial and I realize that your reluctance is understandable. However, I have one last thing to offer you. Something, I think, that will make your decision easy. Come, Protector, walk to the edge of the platform with me. I have a demonstration to show you.”

Xedrion prepared to signal his men. “This fog that approaches. Is it your doing?”

Aloysius smiled and though his voice brightened, the hardness did not leave his eyes. “It is a gift. I am going to give you and the Roo-Dan something you have wanted for a very long time.”

The gnome left the table and walked slowly to the edge of the platform. Xedrion stood and followed him. Aloysius waved his arm to a steward wearing a red sash. The man nodded and sent a signal that was passed along. The section of the Mer-Dan army waiting at the southernmost rim of the valley parted and a large group of people were led down towards the marshes.

“Those are Roo-Tan prisoners,” Herlda said.

“And they will be returned to you as stated in the treaty,” said Aloysius. “That is not what I want to show you.”

The thick fog reported by the scouts came into view, flowing along the water line, which was also the dividing line between the two armies. The fog continued until reaching the southernmost section of the valley where the prisoners were being led.

Xedrion sent a command through all ten rings.
Ready yourselves
.

“Would you like to know what is in that fog, Protector. Would you like to know what it is that I could give you that would guarantee you sign my document?”

Xedrion hesitated. “Tell me.”

Aloysius made a slashing signal with one hand. The fog dissipated. Xedrion swallowed, his hand tightening on his staff. Standing in the streambed were hundreds of huge creatures. Each of them a disturbing mix of man and troll. At their head, reclining on a palanquin was a woman wearing ancient Roo apparel. Her fingers sparkled with gems.

The gnome leaned closer and said softly in Xedrion’s ear, “I would give you back control of the Troll Swamps, Protector. I would give you back your ancient city of KhanzaRoo and I would give you the Troll Queen!”

As Mellinda ended her spell and the thick fog lifted, the Troll King was awestruck by the sheer numbers of the two armies arrayed before him. He had been aware of Mellinda’s agreement with the Gnome Warlord and the Mother’s own plan, but he was unprepared for this. On his right side, twenty thousand Roo-Dan men and women, mixed with a scattering of demon races. On his left, twenty thousand Roo-Tan men and women, defenders of the grove.

Murtha gripped his shoulder. “This is bad, K-king. We should flee.”

“Trust in the wisdom of the Mother,” he said as he patted her hand gently. He understood her concern. His own people seemed so small in comparison.

He looked at Mellinda, sitting on her palanquin, and saw fear on her face. He knew with a sudden certainty that she had not been aware of the sheer numbers that would be involved either.

The king frowned at the woman. “Your plan seems unsound, Mellinda. The numbers are overwhelming. Should they come to blows, we may be crushed. Do you wish to flee?”

Mellinda licked her lips. “Not yet. The plan is still in motion.” She nodded toward the prisoners being herded to the edge of the marsh. “You see? The warlord is keeping his side of the deal. When he is ready, he will signal us. The Mother will feast on the prisoners. Then the fighting will begin and she can have any of the Roo-Tan that come within her reach. Our people only fight those that try to escape our way. Once we arrive back in KhanzaRoo, our numbers will swell by thousands.”

So she thought. He shook his head sadly and found his gaze wandering back to the twenty thousand Roo-Tan with their gray wood weapons. All their eyes were on his people now and in particular Mellinda.

He did not know these people, but he felt a sorrow bloom within him at the thought of their destruction. He didn’t know why. After all, their loss was his people’s gain.

Arcon’s laugh was both eager and fearful, “
Oh, you foolish witch. I should have known that your plan would fall to ruins
.”

Nonsense
, Mellinda snapped.
Everything is still set up as he promised
.

“
He said thousands of Roo-Tan would be here, but twenty? Impossible. We have eight hundred
.”

You know we are not to attack directly. Aloysius’ forces will do the work. We will merely clean up what’s left
, she assured him.

Arcon snorted. “
When the battle is joined, those Roo-Tan will be more afraid of us than their usual foes. Look at them. They’re already pointing at us in fear. Where do you think they will focus their attack
?”

We will be safe behind the mouth of the Mother
, she said uneasily.
And I can use the rings to destroy those that come close
.

“
Will that stop thousands of arrows fired by their bowmen
?” he asked and laughed again. “
You know, since you have taken over, I have realized more and more that this piece of you that was cut free and fled to the eye inside of me was the stupid part. All your vast intelligence and ancient wisdom withered away and died with your powers
.”

Mellinda shoved his thoughts away. She could raise a shield of air to protect most of the trollkin from volleys of arrows. That wasn’t her current concern, though. Her eyes were focused on the center platform.

Aloysius was standing there with a man that could only be the Protector of the Grove. He was pointing in their direction and he was smiling. But the expression on the protector’s face wasn’t anger or fear.

A terrifying thought struck her. What if the protector did not decide to fight? What if he joined the gnome? From the look on his face he was considering it. His gaze was thoughtful, perhaps even greedy.

“Signal the Mother,” Mellinda decided suddenly, turning her attention to the Troll King. She would force the protector to fight. “Tell her to begin taking the prisoners at the shore.”

“Are you not supposed to wait for a signal?” The Troll King asked.

“No. We begin now.” There would be no chance that Aloysius could betray her now. Once the Mother started eating his people, there was no way the Protector would sign that treaty.

Xedrion’s mind was flooded with reports from the various commanders. Their counts of the troll people varied from eight hundred and fifty to eight hundred and eighty in number. He could destroy that number with a hail of arrows alone.

But that wasn’t his problem. Xedrion didn’t know how to respond to the ridiculousness of the gnome’s statement. Give him KhanzaRoo? And the Troll Queen? She was dead. How did the gnome not know that, given how well prepared he had been with everything else?

He was about to ask that question when another message came. This one from Jhonate’s ring.

Father! I just received a message from Edge! He was just approached by a servant of the Stranger’s. He says that Mellinda lives! Somehow she survived my attack and worse, she has the Rings of Stardeon
.

Evidently Tolynn had received a similar message. “Could it be? That face. Xedrion, there is no way he could have known how to duplicate it.”

“You can truly deliver this?” he said numbly.

The gnome warlord chuckled. “Standing before you is the entirety of the trollkin race. They have been industriously cleaning and clearing KhanzaRoo for months now. As for the Troll Mother, Mellinda has her under control. Destroy the witch and the Mother loses its purpose. With the trollkin dead, the city can be yours. All you need do is sign.”

“And what if we do not?” Herlda asked. “Why do you gather our people that you have imprisoned near those beasts?”

The Stranger cleared his throat and Aloysius glanced back at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Xedrion saw the Stranger shake his head slowly. The gnome glared back at the man. He opened his mouth to speak, when a rumbling started.

There was a bulge in the marshes directly in front of the gathered prisoners. A sickly green mound rose from the water, then split open down the middle, revealing a gaping hole and multiple rows of sharp teeth. The prisoners started to scream.

“He means to feed our people to that thing!” Herlda gasped.

Aloysius’ eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered. “Sign the treaty. I will order my imps to burn that thing and the rest of my army will help yours destroy those monsters!”

Long tentacle-like tongues with spiked ends rose from the gaping mouth and lashed out, grasping prisoners and dragging them screaming into the air. The prisoners rushed the guards, trying to fight free, but they were unarmed. The guards had orders to prevent escape if this should happen. People were dropped into the waiting mouth one-by-one.

“This is how you force my hand?” Xedrion shouted in outrage.

“I did not command this!” Aloysius said. He frantically signaled his men to pull the prisoners back. “It’s not too late! Sign and we fight it together.”

The ground rumbled again as another bulge rose from the marshes and another, all of them close to the prisoners. Great mouths opened and tentacles began pulling more people in. But they didn’t stop with the prisoners. One of Aloysius’ stewards was grasped. Then some of the Roo-Dan soldiers on the front lines.

“Never mind,” the gnome said. “We can settle this after the witch is destroyed!”

He signaled to his men and orders were issued. Streams of fire shot down from the imp forces. The mouths burst into flames as did the people caught in the tentacle’s grip.

Xedrion sent orders through his ring. Archers fired, a cloud of five thousand arrows all focused on the trollkin and Mellinda in particular. A shield of air caught most of the arrows, though some slipped through and trollkin cried out.

The thick mist reappeared, suddenly coalescing around the trollkin army, obscuring them from view. The mist spread, moving to fill the valley floor. The ground began to shake again.

Justan and his bonded arrived back at the valley to the sound of screams and the roar of battle cries. Arrows were thick in the air. He saw Mellinda raise her shield and the mist envelop the valley.

Jhonate
! he called through the ring.
Get out of there. Sound the retreat
!

Father says to attack
, she said, approval in her voice.
He wants Mellinda dead
.

Something is bad
, said Gwyrtha.
Under the ground
.

“She is right,” said Deathclaw. “I feel it in my legs.”

Justan concentrated and he could feel it too. A low vibration. A horrible thought came to his mind.
Jhonate listen, damn it! Tell your father to sound the retreat now! This is about to get a lot worse
!

The vibrations increased. All along the slopes, on both sides of the valley, soldiers tumbled to the ground in heaps. A thousand bulges rose up in the middle of the armies. A thousand mouths opened up. Tentacles lashed out and the Troll Mother feasted.

The mist coalesced around the center platform and, though Xedrion could not see the horrible scene, he heard the screams. Reports came in a chaotic jumble. Three of the rings grew silent. Jhonate screamed for retreat.

Xedrion gave the order.
Retreat now
!

“We must go!” he announced and whirled on the gnome warlord. His staff formed into long blades. “What have you done? Was this your plan all along?”

“This is not my doing,” Aloysius replied with a snarl. “This is a betrayal!”

The platform lurched, causing its occupants to stumble. Then one end of it rose up at an angle. The table slid off of the platform, dragging Elder Qelvyn with it. The merman splashed into the fog-obscured marshes with a shout of alarm.

Herlda slipped to her backside, but both Xedrion and Tolynn kept to their feet and helped her up. A horrible screeching sound burst from the marshes and echoed along the valley slopes. Grasping tentacles reached in from the mist.

“Warlord Aloysius, grab my hand!” shouted Matthew. The Stranger had remained standing and reached out towards the gnome calmly. Much of the weariness had seemingly left his face.

Aloysius ignored him, producing a long knife from within his robes and striking out, lopping off the end of one of the tentacles. Boards creaked as the platform lurched again. The gnome ran for the ramp that led to the bank, but a wall of tentacles reared up in his way.

Xedrion and his friends were having the same problem. The escape routes were cut off. All three Jharro wielders handled themselves well. Xedrion’s staff spun, Herlda’s sword flashed, and parts of Tolynn’s armor formed into long blades that she used to great effect. They severed tentacles right and left, but more came.

Soldiers from both sides tried to come to their leaders’ aid, but were either cut off by tentacles or dragged into open mouths, screaming. Witch Sorell whipped about with her spear and tried to use her magic on the tentacles, but to little effect. A tentacle darted in and wrapped around her neck. Xedrion leapt towards her, but she was jerked out of reach. More tentacles grasped her and she was dragged into the mist.

“Grasp my hand, Warlord,” the Stranger said again. Tentacles waved all around, but none touched him. “You will get only one more chance.”

The gnome saw the invitation as a trap. “Is this your doing, Stranger?”

“No,” he said. “It is yours. Call me Matthew.”

“I am no fool!” Aloysius snapped. A spiked tentacle lashed out. He leapt back, but the spikes snagged his robes. It pulled, threatening to yank him off the platform, but he snarled and bent over, allowing it to pull the robes off over his head.

Underneath, he was wearing a full suit of armor. A black suit of fine gnomish chainmail covered him from shoulders to heels and a gleaming polished breastplate covered his chest and shoulders, while a similar pair of shining greaves covered his shins and knees.

“Your last chance, Warlord,” said Matthew.