“I live farther up the river, in a small village. If you allow me to pass, I will catch up to the others I belong with, and be away from your home.”
“Oh, this is not our home. And we think it would be best for you to journey with us instead.”
Feeling queasy from more than the smell now, Ingrid tried to devise a plan to rush past the large beings and hurry along the shore. They didn’t look quick enough to keep up with her, especially if she darted through the small brush.
Finally, my size might be an advantage over an enemy.
Turning to his companions, the leader said something in his strange tongue, and they stepped forward faster than Ingrid would have thought possible, grabbing each of her arms.
“Let me go,” she wailed.
Not turning his head, the beast called back to her, “You will continue along with us for now.”
With that, the conversation was over, and no matter what she said, or how hard she kicked, she was trapped, the sticky slime cementing her between her captors in the most disagreeable way.
Overloaded with sensory input, her head swirled, and, stuck as she was between the simmering bodies, she shivered with cold. Gooseflesh rubbed against her tunic, still wet from the river. Even though the late afternoon sun hid behind the clouds, the trolls clung to the shadows, making the cool breezes more frigid. Somewhere, Ingrid had lost one of her gauntlets.
Probably in the river.
As afternoon turned to evening and then to night, the trolls became more and more animated. Darkness was their sanctuary. Finally, they stopped and built a campfire, which Ingrid sat as near to as she dared, her chattering teeth and blue fingers happy for the warmth.
“Where are we going? I think I have a right to know,” she said when the chill had eased.
“You will make a good servant, we think. We are taking you home to see. If you don’t work out, oh well. None the worse for us.” The two that never spoke to her made gurgling noises that she took for amusement. “It is time for fun now,” the leader declared.
All three got up and walked into the night, talking among themselves and leaving Ingrid alone by the campfire.
I should run, but which direction?
She stood and turned in a slow circle, trying to get her bearings. The landscape had not been familiar to her all day, and a sinking feeling washed over her.
That’s why they don’t need to worry about leaving me here untied. I can’t go anywhere, anyway.
She sat back down with force and thought about her options.
The trolls were obviously happiest at night. Even during the day, she’d noticed that they never strayed into the light, always staying in the shadows as they walked. Hagen used to tell her and Selby stories when they were little, tales about how trolls couldn’t stand the light.
How did those stories go? Light and what? Ugh, I need to figure this out.
Standing up and pacing, she urged herself to remember.
It burns or turns them to stone or something . . . that’s it! If I can make it ‘til morning, then maybe I can work them into the light, and it might give me a chance to run.
The breeze blew from behind her and brought with it the foul smell of rotten eggs. The trolls were on their way back.
Ingrid sat down by the fire again, fidgeting with her fingers while her mind raced with possible escape routes.
The trolls crashed back to the campfire holding several dead rabbits, which they threw at Ingrid’s feet.
“Prepare those for our supper, girl,” the leader snarled.
“I don’t have a knife.”
“Use your hands. You have those.”
“I can’t. You must prepare them yourself, or give me a knife.” Ingrid stood and faced the looming monster.
After they talked in their gurgling language, the shortest of the three glared at her and spit words in her direction, then grabbed the rabbits and walked away from the fire. Ingrid sat back down and faced the flames, willing herself not to smile.
Not long after, the roasting meat sent a spasm to Ingrid’s stomach. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the sweet smell overpowered the stench of troll, and made her mouth water. When it finished cooking, she ignored her own stench and filthy fingers, and tore into the meat with troll-style ferocity.
Devouring the meat, she continued to think. She smiled. Maybe all those years of enduring Hagen’s teasing will come in handy. It had to be good for something. “Yum, rabbit and mead, nothing better!” she raised her hand in a mock salute to the trolls, as if she held a horn of mead.
The slurping stopped as the trolls stared at her. Drool and slime hung from their fingers as they held pieces of meat halfway to their mouths.
“You don’t have any mead,” the leader pointed out. The others peered at her sideways.
Ingrid raised her eyebrows. “I do, it’s right here.” She took another sip. “What? Oh, you want some, too?”
The leader eyed her with a menacing scowl, but the other two nodded their heads with enthusiasm. Ingrid made as if she were going to pass her “horn” to them, but hesitated.
“It’s magical mead, you know. I can’t just give it to you. You have to earn it.”
The two gurgled at her and gestured for her to share.
She pulled the horn to her shoulder and shook her head. “No. If magical mead is not earned, terrible things will happen.”
“How did you get it? I didn’t see you do anything to earn it,” the leader said.
“Oh, but I did. I earned it a long time ago, and now, I can have it whenever I want.” She raised her eyebrows and let out a sigh. “I wish I could share with you, I really do.”
“What do we have to do to earn it?” As eager as the other two, the leader leaned forward, his eyes bright with anticipation.
“Well, let’s see. There are feats of strength, stealing from a dragon, performing magic, or winning a game of wits. At least, those were the choices offered to me when I earned mine.” She took another drink from her invisible cup, and licked her lips.
Wide-eyed, the smallest troll mimicked her by rolling his long, pointed tongue along his wide, amphibious lips. Ingrid clenched her teeth together to control her gag reflex, while a pained smile stayed plastered on her lips.
“What did you choose? Surely, we can do anything you did.” The spokesman stood and put his hands on his hips.
Gurgles erupted from the other two as they talked over each other. The leader joined in, and Ingrid sat back, waiting as they argued amongst themselves for a few minutes. When they stopped talking, they all faced her, and the leader spoke again. “We will tell you our choice when you tell us what you chose.”
“Magic.” A genuine smile and a cock of her eyebrow kept the three silent as they stared.
Their meal forgotten, they looked at each other, and arguing broke out once again. The hissing, gurgling, and spitting that accompanied their language was impossible to understand, but Ingrid picked up on a couple repeated words.
Names. I bet those are their names. Interesting.
“We don’t believe you. If you could do magic, you wouldn’t stay with us. You are lying.”
Ingrid stood up, her mouth a tight line of white, and her eyes narrowed as she huffed air in and out through her nose. Warmth spread throughout her chest when the leader flinched and the others took a step backward. “How dare you accuse me of lying? Now you have insulted my honor, and I won’t share with you at all.”
“Well, it’s too late. You have made the offer, and we can make our choice and still have it.” The troll poked out his bottom lip, his eyes darting back and forth while he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “If you can do magic, prove it.”
“You dare to challenge me?” Ingrid forced herself to stand tall, clenching her fists so they wouldn’t see the tremble in her hands. Now what? I don’t know any magic. She sucked in a quick breath as an idea popped into her thoughts. The trolls were all shifting on their feet and making gr
unting noises from their throats. “Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked and stared at the two weaker ones, who looked from their leader to her and back again.
“Yes.” It was a statement, but the tone no longer held the menace it had before.
“Fine. Do you see this mark on my face?” She tilted her head and allowed them to look at the mottled purple bruise on her jaw. They all nodded at her. “Watch.”
She closed her eyes and laid her hand on her face, covering the area. Concentrating, she felt her hands grow hot, and a pleasing warmth settled into the skin below her palm. There was a tingle at the same time that reminded her of the time she’d snuck a kitten into her bed and it had slept next to her face, purring.
It ended too soon. When the sensation faded away, she opened her eyes and pulled her hand away from her face, knowing that the bruise was healed.
Another eruption of chatter between the three trolls gave Ingrid time to regain her composure. The bliss she’d felt while the healing took place left her swaying and drowsy. “I’ve proved myself, now state your choice.”
The troll in charge turned away from the others, and they all stood silent. “We are no longer in agreement.”
“That is a problem for you, then. If you can’t choose, I will do it for you . . . I choose a game of wits. I will make up a riddle, and you try to guess what it means.”
“No, you could trick us and change the answer.”
“I’ve already proven that I don’t lie.” She gave them a smug grin. “We can make it easier, if you need it. How about I answer a question that only you would know the answer to?”
All the trolls laughed and jumped up and down with excitement, causing an unfortunate explosion of flatulence. A particularly ripe gust floated toward Ingrid.
Ugh. I didn’t think they could be more revolting. “So it’s agreed?” A sour taste coated her tongue from the fug that hovered in the air. Her stomach wobbled, and her jaw muscles clenched as saliva built up behind her teeth, but she swallowed hard and spoke again. “I choose to guess your names.”
For a second, there was total silence. Then a roar of laughter from all three made her turn her head away to avoid the drops of slime that flew from their mouths like sparks from a campfire.
“You will never guess. That was a poor choice, but we are sure to win now, so go ahead.” The leader’s eyes were bright and glistening with his anticipated victory.
Ingrid paced in front of the fire and tapped her chin with her fingers as if she were thinking. The trolls giggled and danced around. She turned and faced them.
“I’ve got them.”
None of the trolls moved, and even the breeze seemed to hold its breath.
“Borku.”
She said it slowly and deliberately, watching their response.
“Forgo.”
“Stop!” the troll who had done all the talking screamed, while the other two howled as if in agony.
Their dancing turned to writhing and bouncing into each other. The screams and howls grew louder until the largest one stopped. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and his body shook violently. The middle troll fell to the ground and rolled back and forth, and the smallest stood still, ragged breaths heaving in and out of his chest.
At first, Ingrid thought they were acting dramatic because they didn’t want to lose. Then a horrendous popping sound rang out. She wanted to run, but her wobbly legs wouldn’t allow it.
The largest troll shrieked and exploded, blowing Ingrid to the ground. Seconds later, the middle troll emitted an even louder roar, and went the way of the other one, turning into a cloud of debris. The remaining troll spun in circles, screaming in confusion, before he took off at a run straight for Ingrid.
She was on her hands and knees, and he tripped on Ingrid’s huddled form, knocking the wind out of her and sending them both flying several feet away. The troll rolled when he hit the ground and landed back on his feet, barely breaking stride as he kept running.
Ingrid watched as he disappeared into the trees, and gulped air back into her lungs. Standing, she forced her legs to run in the opposite direction.
11
Gulping huge amounts of air, Ingrid’s chest heaved from her uncontrolled, panicked flight.
Pull yourself together. They will not find you again, they are . . .
She couldn’t finish the thought as bile rose into the back of her throat. Having no idea where she was or what direction she was heading as she stumbled through the darkness, she kept moving. No plan—other than to put as much distance as she could between her and the trolls—spurred her forward.
When she tripped for the third time, landing again on her battered knees, she stopped.
I need to wash, and I can’t think in the fog of this troll stench.
While she tried to breathe through her mouth and come up with a plan, a sound echoed through the brush behind her. Still as a deer, she sat and listened. It came again, distinct and deliberate. Something was getting closer to her, whether animal or another troll, she wouldn’t wait to find out. Having had the rest and time to gather her wits, she kept the moon behind her left shoulder and headed—she hoped—west.
Her mother had taught her how to use the stars as a guide at night, showed her how to find the North Star and several constellations to mark positions. It occurred to Ingrid that she didn’t know how her mother came to know such things. For that matter, she didn’t know much about her mother at all, never having taken the time to see her as anything other than the woman who loved and took care of her. A sudden tightness gripped her chest.
Curling one arm around her middle, she pushed away thoughts of home and hurried her pace. A break in the undergrowth allowed her to see her surroundings clearer and move faster, without the scratches from broken branches and thorns. Peeking out from a cloud, where it had been playing hide-and-seek, the moon illuminated the open ground, giving Ingrid a chance to stop and get her bearings. There wasn’t any sound of running water, so she figured she must be too far from the river to make it there in the darkness, and she couldn’t smell anything familiar past the rotten-egg scent of troll.
Deciding to continue on her original path, she walked only a few steps before she heard movement inside the brush from where she had emerged. As fast as she could, she ran ahead through the clearing, diving into a thick clump of brush and scampering on her hands and knees until she found a place she could get on her feet.
Before she could take a full step, however, a body slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the ground.
Screaming, she wiggled and punched out at her attacker, connecting once and causing a loud grunt and an increase in the pressure against her.
“Get off of me!” she yelled, turning herself sideways so she could lash out again with a leg and a fist.
“Ingrid?” a familiar voice asked and rolled away from her. “Ouch. Stop kicking.”
When the pressure on top of her lifted, Ingrid pushed off the ground and rushed forward on her hands and feet like a bear. Hearing her name didn’t register at first, and when it did, she stumbled and lost her balance, falling on her elbow against a rock. Standing, she turned around to face whoever it was.
The light was dim inside the undergrowth, and she could only make out the shape of something—human, she hoped—heading toward her. Then a second one emerged and bolted toward her.
Ingrid lowered herself into a fighting position despite the pain in her elbow.
“Ingrid, we found you!” Selby’s voice rang out, and Ingrid wilted, scooped into a hearty hug by her best friend. Almost as quickly, she was pushed away as Selby groaned.
“I know, I smell like a midden heap,” she said with a scrunched face.
“You walk with trolls, you smell like trolls,” Hagen said, laughing, from where he and Jorg stood behind Selby.
Ingrid grunted. “Not something I intended to do, I assure you. Nor do I ever want to see one again, thank you very much.”
“I can�
��t believe trolls are here. I’ve heard stories of them, but never heard of anyone seeing any in recent times,” Jorg said.
“They haven’t been around. They told me that they had been away, and I was the first human they had seen in a long time.”
“You spoke with them?” Jorg asked, a curious expression on his face.
“Yes. Only one spoke in a way I could understand; the others used their ‘old language,’ whatever that is.”
“Why don’t we go back to the clearing, where we can see better and there’s more space,” Selby suggested, giving Ingrid a sheepish grin.
“Where I can stand downwind, you mean.”
“I was trying to be nice about it, but ugh, you stink. I want to hear how you ended up with those disgusting things in the first place.”
They fought their way back through the thickets to open ground, and Ingrid moved so she stood against the breeze.
“How’s this? Am I more tolerable if I stand over here?”
“That’s fine. We should get a fire started and get warm before you start to tell of your adventure. This looks like a good spot to spend the rest of the night, anyway,” Hagen said.
Always in charge. “Are we far enough away from the other one, do you think? One ran away.” Ingrid wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable stopping before daylight.
“We found the broken crate along the river with your footprints and followed the trail. The trolls aren’t careful enough to cover their tracks. When we caught up with you earlier, we fell back to decide how to get you away from them and then we heard the noises. The survivor ran in the other direction, so we’ll be safe here,” Jorg assured her. She gave him a weak smile and nodded acceptance.
After they gathered wood and got a good fire going, Ingrid sat on the downwind side, continually waving smoke out of her face. The others sat huddled on the other side, as far away from her as they could get.
“Are we anywhere near the river?” she asked. “I would rather plunge myself into the cold water right now than keep smelling like this or fighting this smoke.”
The Viking Maiden Box Set Page 11
