Tamed by the Troll (The Perished Woods Book 1)

by Tracy Lauren

  “What are you brats up to?” a woman’s voice asks harshly. The young trolls stop in their tracks, looking sheepish. “Get out of here! You have no business messing with Brom’s prisoner. Go on! Get out of here before I call your mothers.” The boys don’t hesitate. They turn on their heels and start heading in the opposite direction without so much as a backwards glance. Relief washes over me.

  “And you,” she says, turning her accusations onto me. When I see her face, I recognize her as the woman Brom and I first met when we came into town, Malkyn. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, looking down at my half-discarded bindings.

  “I…I was going to go look for Brom. I don’t feel safe out here alone.”

  She huffs and leans her elbows on the rail. “You aren’t alone now,” she tells me, settling in. She keeps her eyes on the shop Brom entered.

  “Thanks,” I say, relaxing a bit. There are fewer eyes on me now that Malkyn is here, but I still feel like a criminal when I consider the way Brom left me tied to a rail. “What kind of shop is that?”

  “Textiles. Women’s textiles,” she says pointedly, still not looking in my direction. “What are you and Brom up to?”

  I’m caught off guard by the question, so I bite my tongue, waiting for an answer to come to me.

  “Are you lovers?” Malkyn presses.

  “Lovers?” I choke on the word.

  “I know he’s spent time with the fae,” she says, glancing at me now. “And humans are like the fae in some ways. Small, pink, fragile…”

  “No, that isn’t our arrangement at all,” I’m quick to say.

  “So you have an arrangement then?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I tell her. Silence falls between us and I feel myself blushing.

  “Do you know why he tied you up?” she asks suddenly. The question makes my jaw tighten in anger.

  “No. I don’t,” I say bitterly.

  “Trolls take what they want, human. The way Brom paraded you through town…he was staking his claim. He wants you for something and the question is: what for?”

  “I owe him a debt. It’s nothing more than that,” I tell Malkyn. She makes no reply beyond a scoff at my answer.

  I look around at the crowds passing by. Some are headed to the market stalls, others usher small herds of goats or drive creaking carts down the packed dirt road. There’s so much here in this village, I begin to wonder if I might find a way to start repaying that debt to Brom. “Malkyn, if I wanted to buy something while in the village, is there a job I could do to earn some coin?”

  “What do you wish to buy?”

  “Brom, he hurt his back and has nothing to heal it.”

  “How does that concern you?”

  “It doesn’t. Well, I mean…it’s my fault it was hurt in the first place and I was hoping I could do something to help, especially since we’re going to be traveling deeper into the Perished Woods.”

  Malkyn appraises me with a raised brow and those smoky eyes of hers. “Come on,” she says finally, untangling the rope and letting my hands free. “I know of someone who can always use a little help.”

  Chapter 20

  Adelaide

  Right away I knew where Malkyn was leading me. I could sense where we were headed before she ever cracked the massive, troll-sized doors.

  There’s a certain smell about any tavern, regardless of whether it serves humans or trolls. It’s the scent of aged and rotting wood, mixed with the stink of a hard day’s work, and the stale and bitter aroma of alcohol.

  Then there’s the tell-tale sounds of a tavern as well: mugs hitting the table, unbridled laughter, and barstools shifting under the weight of patrons. All of this floats on the air outside and trepidation builds in my stomach as we breach the building.

  Malkyn stays by my side and I’m thankful for it, for she eyes all the trolls watching us with a fierceness that lets me know I’m safe when I’m with her. She makes a beeline for the bar and I follow closely behind.

  “Davio!” she calls to the bartender. He’s a troll that’s leaner than the others, though no less fierce looking and he’s decorated with tattoos traveling over his shoulders and up his neck. His hair is pulled atop his head and wound into a bun, his ears adorned from top to bottom with golden rings, and I notice his fangs are less pronounced than Brom’s.

  “Malkyn, beautiful one, how are you today?” Davio greets my new friend with a warm and genuine smile. Immediately I notice he isn’t so gruff as Brom and I’m surprised by the notion that not all trolls are as cantankerous as mine.

  “I don’t have time for flirting, bartender. I’m here for a favor,” she tells him plainly, though I see a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips, which is curious. I thought I read her as being interested in Brom.

  “I am your servant, Malkyn. How can I aid you?” he asks, setting aside the bottle of liquor in his hand and giving the troll woman his full attention.

  “This girl here, she needs to do a few odd jobs, something quick,” she tells him.

  “Oh?” Davio looks at me as if I’m a curiosity.

  “And honest,” I hurry to say, my voice coming out like a squeak.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’d like to do a few jobs that are quick, but I only do honest work. I just thought that might be important to mention,” I say quickly.

  “Well you’re in luck, little human, that’s the only kind of business we do here.”

  “As long as you aren’t playing cards,” Malkyn teases.

  Davio gasps in response, but I can see the mirth in his yellow troll eyes. “Malkyn! You wound me, woman! I am the picture of honesty!”

  “Of course you are, Davio, that’s why I brought the girl here. She’s in need of a healing salve and is willing to trade for work.”

  “You hurt?” Davio asks, looking concerned once more.

  “No, it’s for a frien—my traveling companion,” I say, catching myself. I may not be Brom’s slave anymore, but he and I aren’t friends.

  “Brom,” Malkyn informs the bartender.

  “Well, it’s nearly lunch and we’re packed today. Help the cook get the orders out and wash some dishes and I can give you…” Davio ducks under the counter, digging for something tucked away. When he stands upright, he has a dusty bottle in his hand, it looks to be carved from wood. “This,” Davio says, holding up the bottle.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a healing salve. It isn’t magic, but it’s effective. You’ll have to make sure it is rubbed into the wound at least once a day until the bottle is empty.”

  “Thank you. What can I do to get started?” I ask as Davio tosses me an apron. I have to wrap the thing around my waist three times before I can tie it off.

  “Kitchen’s in through there.” He motions toward a half door leading to a room loud with the clanging of pots and pans. “Tell Crum you’ll be helping him out today—and don’t take his shit!” Davio orders.

  “Should I tell him that too?” I ask.

  Davio and Malkyn laugh in response and I catch myself smiling too. “Please do,” Davio tells me.

  “Thank you both for your help,” I say, looking at the pair.

  “You can thank me by bringing out a hot bowl of Crum’s potato stew,” Malkyn tells me, taking a seat at the bar. Before I even get into the kitchen, I hear Malkyn talking with the bartender. They’ve all but forgotten about me as they begin to flirt quietly over the din of the tavern.

  I push the half door to the kitchen open and step inside. The place is a filthy mess, caked in oil and dust. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw a rat run in on his way to lunch. Manning the stove is a troll so old and withered he’s nearly the size of a human. He stands with his back hunched and his white beard trails all the way down to his belly. He puts his hands on his hips when he sees me, pushing his clouded glasses up his nose, waiting for me to speak.

  “Are you Crum?” I ask.

  “I am. Who in hells are you?” he
demands, and despite all intention, he doesn’t come off as particularly threatening.

  “I’m Adelaide, I’ll be helping you in the kitchen today.”

  “And?”

  “And I don’t take shit from anybody. So, let’s get to work,” I tell him.

  A smile cracks over his crooked and discolored teeth. “That’s right, girly. A kitchen’s no place for shit-takers.”

  Crum surprises me with a litany of quick orders and before I know it, I’m running from table to table, delivering food, filling drinks and taking new orders.

  Chapter 21

  Brom

  I tuck the purchases I made for Adelaide into my traveling sack. My errand in the textile shop took longer than I intended and my mood is sour over the time lost. But it couldn’t be helped. There was a particular item I desired and the shopkeep had to make some adjustments so that it might fit a human.

  I swing the door wide, eager to grab Adelaide and be on our way. But to my endless dismay, the human is gone.

  I scan the area. No humans. Only trolls, going about their daily business. On a nearby barrel I see a troll reclining and enjoying his pipe. I stalk over to him, grabbing his collar roughly. “Where is she?” I growl.

  The troll coughs and sputters and I give him a shake to focus his thoughts. “The human that was tied there to the rail, where did she go?”

  “I never saw a human here,” he answers quickly. Hushed voices catch my ear and I look up to see a group of younglings shooting me furtive glances. Dropping the smoker, I approach the young ones, my rage worn plainly on my face. Grabbing a youth by the scruff of the neck, I hold him up high for his friends to see.

  “I will break this one if you do not give me some answers. Where is my human?”

  Without hesitation they raise their hands, pointing down the road. “The tavern, she’s in the tavern!” the youngling I’m gripping onto screeches, his legs kicking uselessly in midair but touching nothing.

  “If you lie, I will be back to break each of you,” I warn, dropping the troll. I head toward the tavern with angry purpose and the boy’s friends wait until I am gone before they help him to his feet.

  I reach the place quickly. The double doors swing open, banging against the wall with force as I stride into the room. Silence falls as everyone turns to regard me with trepidation. But quickly, the cacophony of barroom sounds ignites again. I scan the room but don’t see Adelaide. A sudden fear washes over me. What if she was stolen?

  Just as I’m about to declare my purpose and threaten to murder everyone in the room if my Adelaide is not returned to me, the short door to the kitchen swings open. Adelaide comes backing her way out, with a tray covered in plates and bowls in one hand and a jug of liquor balanced on her hip.

  I watch in confusion as she passes out food to a nearby table, talking with patrons as if she knows them. She swings her hips, her tattered dress swishing behind her as she makes her way around the room, topping off mugs.

  “That’s a human’s portion, girl!” a troll complains as she moves on to the next mug.

  “Pay a troll’s price and I’ll fill it to the top,” she counters, causing the rest of the table to roar in laughter. The troll smiles at her and slaps a few coins onto the table.

  “There’s enough there for two drinks. Pull up a seat why don’t you?”

  “I’m working,” she tells him. “But I appreciate the tip,” she says with a wink, slipping the coins into her apron pocket.

  “I can wait all day for a pretty girl! What time are you off?” he calls after her, leaning back in his seat to watch her ass as she moves on to the next table. I stride past him, knocking the legs out from under his chair as I do. There’s a loud clatter when he hits the ground and the tavern falls silent again when I grab Adelaide by her wrist and spin her around to face me. For a moment, her expression is one of surprise, but it’s quickly covered by indignation. Fiery Adelaide, ready to blame me for her running away.

  “Hands off the new barmaid, Brom. I don’t care if you are the town’s guardian. No one touches a lady in The Cocky Bull unless she wants to be touched.”

  Still gripping onto Adelaide, I turn to see Davio at the bar, glaring at me. Across from him sits Malkyn and she narrows her eyes at me.

  “This human is mine,” I growl. “She ran away. I am simply retrieving her.”

  “Ran away nothing,” Malkyn says with a roll of her eyes. “I brought her here, you oaf.”

  I loosen my grip on Adelaide’s arm and she yanks it away from me. Looking around the room, I see a dozen trolls on their feet, ready for an all-out brawl. Adelaide senses the tension.

  “It’s alright. I’m with the oaf,” she shouts, assuring them of her safety. There’re a few derisive snorts as the trolls take their seats. I can feel their eyes on me as I follow Adelaide to the bar. She moves behind it while I take a seat next to Malkyn.

  “You’ve been on your own too long, cousin, you’ve forgotten how civilized trolls are meant to behave.”

  “Cousin?” Adelaide echoes aloud. It isn’t a question as much as it is an expression of her surprise.

  “Are you shocked because I have a cousin or because trolls are civilized?”

  “I’d say both if you’re her only example of a troll,” Malkyn answers. Adelaide laughs openly, honestly, and it puts me in my place. There have been so few times I have seen her feeling anything other than anger since I claimed her as my slave. Walking in here and seeing her with the others, talking, joking, seeming so free of anguish… I feel like I’m viewing her through a window, unable to get any closer to the woman inside.

  “I thought you had run,” I tell her.

  “I told you I wouldn’t,” she replies defensively.

  “I don’t understand. Why come here?” I ask, but Adelaide is not so quick with her reply this time. Instead she looks from Davio to Malkyn nervously.

  “The girl wanted to work. What’s it to you when you left her tied like livestock in front of a shop?” Malkyn argues.

  “This one wanted to work? Is that so?” I ask, raising my brow and assessing Adelaide.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” the human demands, her brow furrowing.

  “It’s just a first is all,” I answer, feeling smart. The feeling is quickly dashed.

  “There’s a hell of a difference between work and slavery, Brom,” she counters, her voice steely.

  Silence falls on our group, the tension obvious. It’s Davio who finally breaks the quiet. “Anytime you need a job, Adelaide, you’re welcome at The Cocky Bull.”

  “Thanks,” Adelaide answers with a shy smile. “I have tips,” she says reaching into her pocket to hand them over to Davio. He pushes them back.

  “You earned them,” he says, guiding her hand back to her pocket. Though he uses guile, I notice him slip something else inside with the coins. And the “Thank you” Adelaide gives him is heavy with double meaning.

  “The coin will be a big help when I start over in Pontheugh. I left my village with nothing, so every bit means a lot to me,” she tells him.

  Before I have the chance to speak to their exchange, Davio pounds on the kitchen door. “Crum, your barmaid is leaving!” he shouts.

  “Impossible!” comes the screeching voice of the elderly chef. Seconds later, he wobbles out, leaning heavily on his cane and carrying a bowl of stew, sloshing in one hand. “You have to eat first!” he insists, shoving the bowl over to her. His gaze shoots to me. “I suppose you’ll want to eat too,” he says, as if the notion is such a great inconvenience to him.

  “I’ll get it, Crum,” Adelaide tells him, ducking into the kitchen.

  “A nice young troll finally comes in and you’re stealing her away before we even have the chance to get started. I promised to teach her my stew recipe if she’d give the kitchen a good scrub down,” he laments. Adelaide returns with a smile on her face and passes me a steaming bowl of Crum’s stew. Without a word, she takes the chef’s clouded glasses from his nose and
wipes them down on her apron. Carefully, she replaces them. The old troll blinks a few times, his eyes focusing on Adelaide.

  “Eesh! I thought you were an ugly troll, but you’re just an ugly human. No worries, dear,” he says, patting her hand. “It can’t be helped. You were still one hell of a barmaid. Come back when you’re done with this one,” he says, cutting his gnarled thumb at me. He shifts his voice into a whisper. “I’ll teach you all my recipes,” he promises.

  “Thank you, Crum. I think that’s the kindest offer I’ve ever gotten,” Adelaide tells the old one. He puffs his chest out proudly and hobbles back into the kitchen, moaning over the loss of his barmaid. Adelaide joins me on my side of the bar, pulling up a stool to eat her meal. Her short human legs don’t quite reach the ground and the soup bowl dwarfs her.

  I sit stoically as the others talk, Davio and Malkyn telling stories of Crum and his eccentricities, making Adelaide laugh. All the while I grind my teeth in anger, wondering what trick she plans next. How did she gain Davio and Malkyn’s favor? And more importantly, what did Davio slip into her pocket?

  Chapter 22

  Adelaide

  A foreign emotion wells inside me as Brom and I leave The Cocky Bull. I feel happy. I was only there for a few hours, but it was the most comfortable I’ve been since…since before my parents.

  I could be crass in the tavern and still no one called me a bitch. No one accused me of being crazy or overly temperamental. People were even nice to me again. It’s been so very long since anyone looked at me like I was just Adelaide. Instead I’ve been the girl who broke after the death of her parents. But no one in The Cocky Bull knew me. They didn’t expect anything from me at all. They took me at face value…and even though my face didn’t look like theirs, they still treated me like I was something more.

  It makes me remorseful of any prejudice I had been harboring against trolls. A human grows up hearing so many awful things about the monsters in this wood, but maybe they’re just stories and it isn’t really all that bad.