Go!The dragon and I shouted to each other mentally in tandem. I took my shot. It hit the troll in the back, just to the right of its spine. In its mad flail to try to remove the arrow, it was merely moving the sharp head around in its body, cutting more, cutting deeper. But trolls are not the brightest creatures. Spinning about, it slipped down a step, throwing it off balance just enough to send it tumbling back down the stairs.
Now we go!I heard in my head. Yes, now seemed a good time. When that monster got on its feet, it would be doubly mad. I threw my bow over my shoulder and ran as fast as I could, Jaculi streaking past me. The climb was excruciating. I caught up with the rest of my company in short order. All were huffing and sweaty, yet we pushed on. We had no choice. The stairs seemed endless, which they would, climbing from the depths of Melowynn to the vast plains of the Bhaston. As we neared the top, we could feel the cool air of the tundra rushing down over our faces. The howls of the troll were growing closer again. I shoved Asdren up the last few dozen steps, out into a glaring sun. The sun. The sun! Fresh air, vast open spaces, flat land that ran as far as I could see. We had made it. We burst out of the huge stone opening, the doors of stone long ago fallen off to lie in huge chunks of shale on either side of the door. The ponies were winded but heading off over frozen land that would in time change to plains. For now, it was hard, icy dirt and rocks that we raced over.
The troll emerged with a yell that made my ears ring. I bolted to the left, leaping up onto a small ledge on the side of the mountain, gravel tumbling down under my boots. The dwarves now had room to maneuver, freeing their weapons. I scrambled higher up the cold stone, found a spot to stand safely,and planted my feet shoulder-width apart. Jaculi swooped and dove at the troll, pulling its attention from the Sable Legion as they raced in one by one to attack its left leg. I loosed an arrow. It sliced open a huge gash on the troll’s left side, dark, rich blood flowing down the monster’s side and hip. The thud of a war hammer into a knee rang off the mountain. The troll howled in pain as its broken joint buckled.
Asdren roared in Dwarven to his comrades as I fired steadily, each arrow finding its mark at the base of the troll’s thick neck. The dwarves moved in, slowly, like a pack of wolves circling a wounded plains gazelle. The troll began to weaken—finally—and then slumped over to its side. Asdren charged in to bring his hammer down on the monster’s head. With a sickening crack, the troll twitched once, twice, and then shat itself as the life left its body.
“Ack, that smells worse than a goblin’s armpit!” Narub groaned as he yanked his sword from the now-dead mountain troll.
“Nasty things they are,” Asdren commented, wiping the gore from his hammer on the cold, dead grass. “Young male. They get drove off by their mas when they reach a certain age. Not that crossing this grotesque thing with his ma would make an uglier babe.”
Jaculi kited overhead, soaring skyward until he was a mere speck in the bright blue sky before diving back down, circling us in joyous abandon. Grinning at the dragon, I too took a moment to drink in the warmth of the sun on my face, tipping my nose skyward, bow in hand, as I let my eyes close.
“You keep staring up at the sun, you’ll get freckles,” Asdren called out. I opened my eyes in time to see Jaculi pluck a fat dove from the air. Feathers exploded and floated downward to coat the dwarves cleaning off their weapons. “Glad he’s only big enough to eat rock doves.”
“For now,” Smuta said as she picked some bits of flesh from her mace. “Give it a few seasons, and he’ll be carrying off kids.”
The others said nothing, just watched as Jaculi landed on the ledge beside me, dove tightly gripped in the talons of his right front leg, wings tucked on his back.
“Surely he deserves a reward for aiding us in fighting that troll,” I said and scrambled down to join the dwarves standing around the dead troll.
“A keg of ale and a warm wench would be reward enough for me,” Dulgar commented to the side.
“Same.” Smuta sighed as if it had been years since she had been with someone and not mere days. The sharp, deep croak of a raven floated to us. I glanced skyward to see Click hopping about on a dead pine ash, his thoughts touching mine just as I spied his glossy black feathers.
Click waits for suns and suns. So hungry. Feed Click.
I shook my head at the bird and gave the dragon a firm look as well as a sharp command.
Jaculi, do not touch the ravens.
He looked up at my message, gold eyes glimmering, then spotted the big black bird who had not seen the dragonling yet, it seemed.
Is that a raven?Gray feathers cascaded down to the ground as he spoke.
Yes, large black birds. They are my friends. They bring me messages. Do not eat them.
I will not eat the large black birds. I will eat other birds. They are delicious and fun to chase. What other birds may I eat?
Any that are not large and black. And no animals within fences.
You have many rules.
All I could do was nod. It was true. There were many rules, and more to come, I was sure, but they were to keep him as safe as I could. He returned to his meal. Click flapped over to me, landing gently on my arm and twisting his head to the side to stare down at Jaculi.
Big lizard. Click eats little lizards.
I ran a hand down his sleek back as a brisk, clean wind raced down the mountainside. Cold, yes, but invigorating. With a rough nip of his beak to my shoulder, he walked down my arm and then my back until he was ready to let me remove the two tubes from each leg.
Click eats little lizards. Click flies many miles. Feed Click.
I had little left. I passed over a withered apple, which he took then flew up to an outcropping of rock. I sat down to try to read the missives from the capital, but instantly saw I was in trouble. The king’s swoopy writing was a tangled mess of curls, letters all running into confusing lines. I stared down at it for so long my head began to ache.
“Bad news?” Asdren enquired as he approached.
“I do not know,” I huffed, wishing above all else that my brain was not so useless. “I cannot make sense of the writing.”
“Here, let me read it for you.” He held out a hand speckled with drying troll blood. My sight darted to the large monster and back to Asdren. I nodded as I passed along the tightly bound note. If you could not trust a man who helped you fell a rampaging troll, who could you trust? Also, I felt things for him. Fylson would certainly not agree with sharing state secrets with a lover, but Fylson was not here and my heart was.
