Don't Feed the Trolls

by Jacob Peppers

  Dannen frowned, feeling slightly annoyed at the girl, mostly because he had been wrestling with the same thought and hearing it said out loud from another source only made his sense of unease grow.

  He was still trying to think of an answer when Fedder grunted. “Bandits are known for a lot of things, lass, but bein’ smart ain’t one of ‘em. Take my word on it—after all, I reckon I’ve lost count of the bastards we’ve put in the ground over the years. Ain’t that right, Butcher?”

  “Well,” Dannen said, nodding slowly. “That’s true. Still, I’ve got to agree with Mariana—seems a bit careless.”

  “Careless like letting the people they were hired to kill sneak out a window while they’re drinking themselves into a stupor?” Fedder countered.

  Dannen grunted. “Point taken.” Although some of those bandits hadn’t looked drunk to him, only angry and ready to earn their pay with an eagerness that would have put any tradesman to shame.

  “So what’s the plan then?” Mariana asked.

  “Well, to set the villagers free of course,” Dannen said. “Only, someone will need to take care of those two guards first.”

  Mariana gave a soft snort. “And who is the lucky bastard gets that job, I wonder?”

  She noted Dannen and Fedder both looking at her and sighed. “Seems I’m being volunteered, is that right?”

  Dannen shrugged. “Well, I mean, you are an assassin.”

  She frowned. “You know, Butcher, there’s more to being an assassin than killing people or knocking them unconscious. Why, sometimes the best solution isn’t fighting at all but talking.”

  Dannen raised an eyebrow. “You mean to talk to them?”

  She gave him a look as if he were the world’s biggest fool. “Gods, no. I’m just saying is all.”

  “I’ll go.”

  They all turned to glance at Tesler. “What?” Dannen asked, thinking he must have heard the man wrong.

  Tesler shifted. “I said I’ll go. I mean…it seems only fair. If—”

  Mariana snorted. “Go and do what? Those aren’t furry animals you can sweet talk, Tesler. Those are men—with swords.”

  The young man winced, his face paling. “Still…I can go.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Gods, what it must be like to be a man. How about you just take it easy, alright? If we end up getting attacked by an army of rats, I promise to let you take the lead, how’s that?”

  Tesler’s mouth worked as if he meant to respond but no words came, and Fedder grunted. “She’s right, lad. We all got our strengths—it’s important to play to ‘em.”

  Mariana snorted again. “If you say so. Anyway…” She sighed, withdrawing her weapons. “You all just relax, take a load off, eh? Gods forbid you exert yourselves.”

  “Some things are worth exertin’ yourself for, lass,” Fedder said, grinning.

  She rolled her eyes at that, and then she was gone, moving with an impressive swiftness as she crossed the road. “I tell you somethin’, Butcher,” Fedder said. “That one can assassinate me anytime.”

  Dannen frowned. “What?”

  The mage turned to meet his gaze. “Well, I’m just sayin’, you know, on account of—”

  “Keep up the jokes,” Dannen said, “and probably you’ll get your wish.”

  Fedder grinned at him. “Here’s hopin’.”

  Dannen sighed, shaking his head and turned back to check on the bandits guarding the granary only to realize to his shock that they were no longer there. He frowned, listening for any sounds of fighting or, worse yet, of the bandits sneaking up on them. He cursed. He’d been a fool to let himself be distracted by Fedder’s jokes and likely they would pay for it.

  Suddenly, there was the almost imperceptible sound of a footstep nearby, and he spun to see a figure looming over them. It was all he could do to keep from screaming which was just as well as, a moment later, the figure moved forward and resolved into Mariana, the girl shaking her head as she resheathed her weapons.

  “What’s wrong?” Dannen asked. “Did you deal with them?”

  The girl sighed. “Yes. Honestly, it doesn’t make sense for two men to become bandits and then be so bad at it. It’s like no one has any dedication to their craft anymore.”

  “Both of them?” Tesler asked, blinking. “You already took care of both of them?”

  Mariana gave him a smirk. “Sure, it was easy.”

  Dannen nodded slowly at that. Apparently, it had been, but that fact didn’t make him feel better. True, he’d seen the woman in action and knew enough to know that she was incredibly well-versed in the use of the weapons she carried, but it didn’t just seem easy—it seemed too easy. All of it, from making it through the village without any sign of alarm to her knocking the two men out to the bandits apparently deciding to only leave two men to guard an entire village’s worth of prisoners.

  He glanced at Fedder and, judging by the frown on the mage’s face, thought it likely that he was having a similar thought.

  Mariana, though, seemed to share none of their concern. “Well?” she asked. “Are we going to save these villagers or not?”

  Dannen nodded. “Alright, but we do it quiet and quick, understand? Hoping your opponents are fools isn’t a strategy, and sooner or later one of the other bandits is going to come check on the villagers.”

  They all nodded at that, agreeable enough, confident enough, but then Dannen knew from experience that most people were confident enough right up until they saw what their own blood looked like. “Right,” he said, “we need to be smart about this. I’ll go for the villagers—Fedder, you come with me.”

  “Sounds good,” the mage agreed.

  Dannen turned to Mariana. “I want you to watch us but at a distance. Stay hidden—in case one of the bandits does come back, I don’t want any surprises.”

  The woman nodded. “Right.”

  “What about me?”

  Dannen turned to look at the young man, realizing that he’d forgotten him for a moment while planning. He winced. “You stay here, lad. If you see anyone coming up on us, you give a shout, yeah? To let us know.”

  Tesler frowned. “You want…you want me to stay here and watch?”

  “Sure,” Mariana said, “what else can you do?”

  She said it flippantly, apparently unaware of the young man’s feelings, feelings which Dannen saw trace their way across his face for a moment. The woman might as well have stabbed him with a blade for all the wounding she’d given him. Dannen winced, wanting to say something to offer the young man some comfort, but he decided it would have to wait. Feelings, after all, healed—a sword in the chest rarely so. “It’s an important job, lad,” he said. “Okay?”

  The man might be young and naïve in the ways of adventuring, but it was clear by the expression on his face that he knew bullshit when he smelled it. He gave a glum nod. “Okay.”

  Dannen gave a heavy sigh then started forward. He kept low as he and the mage darted across the street toward the granary, his body tense as he listened for any sound of someone approaching in the darkness. Yet, for all his fears, he and the mage reached the doorway without incident. As they did, Dannen noted something lying in the shadows a few feet away from the door, something that had not been visible from their hiding spot across the street.

  A body. No doubt one of the men—unconscious or dead, there was no knowing for sure—that had been guarding the granary minutes ago. He tried the door and found that it was locked then nodded to Fedder. “Just a moment, let me check him, see if he has a ke—” He cut off as Fedder let out a low growl and shouldered into the door. Wood splintered and creaked as the door broke off its hinges and fell to the side against the frame.

  Dannen blinked at the mage who, by the light of a torch or lantern from within the granary, he could see was smiling. “What is it with you and doors anyway? They do something to you?”

  The mage’s smile slowly turned into a sheepish, unsure grin, and he shrugged. “Well. You said be quick.�
��

  Dannen had also said be quiet, and he figured the man might as well have rang a bell to announce their arrival for all the noise he’d made, but it was too late now so he shook his head. “Whatever—come on.”

  He stepped into the granary and his nose was immediately filled with the heady smell of wheat. He blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the light of what turned out to be a lantern and after a few seconds he saw the villagers. They were all crammed into the back of the granary, sitting or standing, all of them huddled against the wall as if they meant to disappear into it. Not that he could blame them.

  After all, even at a quick glance, he could see that several of them sported wounds that had been wrapped in makeshift bandages, no doubt from the bandits, and a few weren’t sitting or standing but lying on the ground, tended to by others. He was still taking it all in when several men stepped out of the group.

  “Had enough of you bastards,” one of them growled. He wasn’t a particularly large man, but there was murder in his eyes, and Dannen held up his hands quickly.

  “Look, we aren’t with the bandits, okay? We’ve come here to help.”

  That brought the man and his companions up short, and he frowned, staring at Dannen for a moment before turning to look at Fedder where his eyes widened the slightest bit, his gaze lingering on the big mage who’d just broken the door in with his shoulder, and Dannen understood. If there was a man who looked further from the stories of knights and heroes than Fedder, Dannen had never met him.

  “You’ve come to help,” the man repeated, licking his lips nervously.

  “That’s right,” Dannen said, frowning at Fedder who, despite their purpose in coming here, was looking all too eager for a fight. “We came to set you all free.”

  Some of the villagers—who’d no doubt just had the longest day and night of their lives—began to whisper excitedly at that while others broke into tired sobs. Dannen thought it was a bit early to be celebrating, but he couldn’t blame them. After all, moments ago they’d been sitting huddled in a granary thinking—and likely correctly—that they would be killed any time.

  “So…you’ve dealt with the bandits then?” the man asked in an understandably doubtful tone.

  Dannen winced. “Not…exactly. So it’s best we hurry before they decide to come checkin’, eh?”

  The man, though, didn’t seem quite ready to let it go. “But who are they?” he asked. “Why did the bandits come here in the first place? It isn’t as if we’re a rich village—gods, most of us don’t have two coins to rub together.”

  Dannen glanced at the mage and cleared his throat. “Who knows? Bandits are…well, they’re not exactly predictable, are they?”

  Which, of course, couldn’t have been further from the truth. Bandits, if they were anything, were predictable. For such people would do anything for coin—anything like, say, attacking an entire village in order to lay a trap for a few adventurers they’d been paid handsomely to murder. Still, he thought it best—regarding expedience and, of course, not getting attacked by the very same people he’d come to save—to neglect sharing that little tidbit.

  The man nodded slowly, watching him with a gaze that seemed to indicate that he had some idea of the truth. He was still doing so—and Dannen doing his best to look as innocent as possible—when there was the sounds of footsteps from behind him, and Dannen turned to see Mariana slipping into the granary, an unmistakably troubled expression on her face.

  “We’ve got a problem,” she said.

  “What do you mea—” Dannen began, but just then, a voice rang out from somewhere outside the granary.

  “Dannen Ateran,” a woman’s shout came, “and all the rest of you lot. We know you’re in there—best come out before we have to come in and get you!”

  Dannen grunted. “Shit.” He looked at Mariana. “How many?”

  She winced, her face unmistakably pale. “All of them.”

  Dannen felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “All of them?”

  She shrugged. “Or near enough. Thirty or forty, I’d count, including your new friend Palder.”

  More sobs from the villagers in the room, but these were decidedly not celebratory. Dannen rubbed his temples. “What about Tesler?”

  Mariana’s face twisted with obvious emotion, but she got it under control. “Gone,” she croaked.

  He frowned. “Gone? What do you mean.”

  “I mean he wasn’t there,” she said, “where we left him.”

  Dannen considered telling her that he wasn’t a misplaced shoe or a puppy on a leash, he was a man with two working feet that could have gone anywhere. He was just about to say as much when she spoke on, her voice breaking with emotion.

  “Dannen,” she said, no taunting or mocking in her voice now, “do you think he…I mean, the bandits…do you think they—”

  “He’s fine, Mariana,” he said, grasping her shoulders. “Alright? I’m sure he’s fine.” He wasn’t, of course, was far surer that her fears were true and that the bandits had dealt with the young man already. After all, Tesler was not an assassin like Mariana, nor a mage like Fedder, was not even a washed-up, fat swordsman like Dannen himself. The man knew nothing of fighting.

  “Last chance,” the voice called, and Dannen thought he recognized the woman’s voice, a voice with an unmistakably mocking tone, as the guardswoman they’d met. Or, at least, the woman who had pretended to be a guard. “Ten seconds and then we’re coming in after you—your choice, but I can promise you won’t like that, not a bit.”

  “Shit,” Dannen said again.

  “So…what do we do?” Mariana asked.

  Dannen shook his head angrily. He’d known it had been too easy, making it to the granary as they had, just as he’d known they should have broken into the stables and stolen some horses, escaping the village while they’d had the chance. Now, it was too late, and the only thing they had to look forward to was some pain and then a quick—or not so quick—death. The only real reward anyone ever got for playing at being a hero. Had he really felt good when deciding to come save the villagers? Yes, he had, had been confident that they were doing the right thing, but he doubted that would be quite as much comfort once the bloodletting started.

  “What can we do?” he asked her, his voice dry. He turned back to the villagers, all of them staring at him in open fear as they realized that their savior was just about to be another victim, not capable of even saving himself, let alone them. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. Then he looked back at the others. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “Best not keep them waiting.”

  Dannen had done a lot of hard things in his life—waking up each morning was right up there on the list—but walking out of that granary numbered with the hardest. Still, he did his best to keep his head up, and his back straight as he stepped over the shattered door. Outside he looked around the open clearing in front of the granary and saw that Mariana hadn’t been exaggerating. If anything, she had underestimated the bandits’ numbers.

  By the light of the torches several of them carried, Dannen made out at least forty, perhaps as many as fifty men and women, all with weapons drawn. They were surrounded with nowhere to run, even if Dannen wasn’t fifteen pounds overweight and easily caught by even the most lethargic of bandits.

  At the front of the group stood the red-haired woman. Dannen didn’t know if it was the fact that he was about to die and so everything seemed better—even the air tasting sweeter—or if it was that he’d had far too little female companionship lately, but the woman was pretty. Perhaps even beautiful. Of course, he’d seen a unicorn before—not many still living could say as much—and it, too, had been beautiful. At least, that was, until it had started trying to eat his face off, and if the flash he saw in the woman’s eyes were any indication, she could have given the beast some stiff competition.

  “Ah,” she said, a pouty expression on her face. “But where is the handsome one?”

  Fedder stepped o
ut from behind Dannen—as if anything short of a building was in danger of hiding the man—grinning. “Well, lass, you’re a pretty thing yourself. Now, how about you let me and my friends go, and me and you take a roll in the hay, huh? How’d that be?”

  The woman made an expression as if she’d just eaten something that had gone off. “I’m not talking about you, you old buffoon. I mean the other—the young one. I’d hoped to have some fun with him before we got on to business.”

  Fedder grunted staring at Dannen. “Sorry, Butcher, I tried. Really thought that would work.”

  Dannen stared at the man, wondering if he could time it so that he managed to punch him one good one in the face before the bandits killed them all, thereby avoiding any possible reprisals. “Really?” he asked.

  “Shut your mouth!”

  Dannen spun to look at Mariana, noting that the woman had taken several steps forward as if she meant to attack the bandit leader, never mind the forty or fifty of her fellows gathered all around her, a few of which, he saw, were wielding crossbows.

  He tensed, expecting the woman to order the attack, but instead the bandit leader only smiled mockingly. “Ah, I see. So it seems I am not the only one who appreciates a handsome man. Fit too, isn’t he?” she went on, her grin widening. “I wonder, have you tested just how fit?” She watched Mariana for a moment, the other woman’s fists knotted at her sides, her whole body tensed as if it were all she could do to keep from breaking into a furious—and no doubt suicidal—charge. “No,” the woman said after a moment, giving a soft laugh, “no, I see that you have not. Still, you fancy him, there is no question of that. Why then, have you not sampled him? I wonder, is it because he does not fancy you in return?”

  Mariana made a sputtering sound in her throat, seemingly at a loss for words for the first time Dannen could remember. She spun to look at him and Fedder, her face growing a deep shade of crimson. “Sh-she lies,” Mariana stammered. “I don’t…that is…he isn’t…”