The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9) (33 page)

BOOK: The Troll King (The Bowl of Souls Book 9)
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“Are you saying that this somehow has something has to do with the origin of the Troll Swamps?” asked Willum.

 

He didn’t answer right away and Jhonate pressed him. “My father sent us on this mission and the more I hear, the more I think he had a suspicion that it had something to do with this secret. Why else would he send us to the one man besides him that knows it?”

 

Jhexin nodded. “That is right. You should go ahead and tell us. Besides, if father is angry, you can just tell him that Jhonate made you talk. He would believe you.”

 

“But . . .” The bonding wizard wilted under their collective gaze. Finally, he sighed. “Very well. To explain this, I must continue the story of the Troll Queen’s conquest of KhanzaRoo.”

 

Vannya took her notebook out again and nodded at him to continue.

 

Stolz began, “Mellinda descended from the mountains of Razbeck with a hundred thousand of her newly created trolls. She controlled this army with the power of her bewitching magic alone and it is said that wherever this army passed, the people heard her voice in their minds saying, ‘Hear this and tremble. The Troll Queen has risen.’”

 

He shrugged. “Or something of that nature. I have heard different versions. It is hard to say what the original statement was after all these years. It’s one of the difficulties that comes from a legend that is passed along by word of mouth. I’ve often wondered-.”

 

“Enough tedium,” Jhonate said sternly. “Continue with the story.”

 

Stolz raised his eyebrows. “It’s just something to keep in mind. The point I was making was that the version I was told may not be completely accurate and . . .” He trailed off at the look in Jhonate’s eyes. “W-well, when Mellinda arrived in Malaroo with her army, she set out directly for KhanzaRoo.

 

“This time, the people were prepared for her arrival. One of Mellinda’s servants had betrayed her and sent word to the new High Priestess. Malaroo’s most powerful witches were waiting to disrupt the Troll Queen’s assault. Mellinda’s magic was immense, but controlling the minds of a hundred thousand beasts was difficult enough without resistance. The troll army broke under the might of the Roo defenders. They were set afire and scattered.

 

“Mellinda was furious, but she wasn’t beaten. She had seen the damage that the combined slime of a hundred thousand troops had done to sections of the swamp and it gave her an idea. She sent word back to the palace commanding her servants to bring her the deformed thull she had left behind.

 

“By the time it arrived several weeks later, the thull no longer resembled the creature it had once been. It had grown and its misshapen and elongated body had to be loaded on top of several wagons in order to move it. Troll limbs and various body parts protruded from it at odd angles and it produced such a flood of slime that the servants hadn’t been able to use fire at any time in their journey.”

 

“This thing was a troll behemoth,” Deathclaw said in recognition. He hadn’t been there for the first half of the story, but had quickly caught on.

 

“Ah yes,” said Stolz, nodding in approval of his knowledge. “The first one ever and it suited the Troll Queen’s purposes just fine. She reached her magic into its mutated body and changed its nature further. She caused it to burrow into the ground beneath the swamp and commanded it to grow. And it did.

 

“You see, the waters of the Roo homeland are filled with nutrients. Decayed bits of plants and animals, algae and insects, little organisms that we can’t see with our eyes. All of it exists in the swamp and Mellinda taught this behemoth how to absorb it. With this nearly limitless supply of energy, the creature grew and grew, burrowing until it had penetrated every waterway in KhanzaRoo.”

 

“The great disaster,” Jhonate said in awe. “That is how she did it.”

 

“Indeed,” Stolz said. “The slime produced by its immense body polluted the water, killing the fish and much of the plant life. The evaporated slime coalesced into deadly flammable clouds that floated through the swamp. The ancient Roo were beaten and they didn’t even know how she had done it. The people tried to cling to their great cities, but the Troll Queen wasn’t finished. She created a great wound in the side of the behemoth and harvested a new army of trolls. Now that the Roo people didn’t dare to use fire to combat them, her troops overran the swamps, driving out her former people. Mellinda had taken her revenge.”

 

“Then this is why every attempt to retake the swamps has failed,” Jhonate said, her face pale. “How do you defeat an enemy that large and pervasive?”

 

Stolz nodded. “This is the truth that the Prophet imparted to Protector Jarvis bin Tayl those years ago. He told him that the Troll Swamps are no longer the homeland of the Roo-Tan. Our homeland is where we live now, protecting the grove as we promised. The swamps belong to the Troll Mother, for that was the name that Mellinda gave the great behemoth that lives beneath the waters.”

 

“A behemoth that big . . .” said Deathclaw, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. “This is what you long to slay. Is it not, Star?”

 

“A fascinating story!” said Vannya. She had filled her notebook and started on another. The mage winced and shook her writing hand, working out a cramp. “When I return to the Mage School I shall research this further. I will likely need to look at the newly unsealed histories for the details.”

 

“I have a question,” Willum said. “What does all of this have to do with these new creatures we are investigating?”

 

“Well, I have been trying to decide how best to explain my theory on this,” Stolz said. He hummed thoughtfully. “I believe that the answer is tied into the very nature of the Troll Mother herself. You see, over the past few centuries, the behemoth has undergone a change in her nature. An evolution if you will. Its slime production has slowed. The flammable mists are more rare and the number of trolls living in the swamps has declined. The theory I told your father was that it had gone dormant.”

 

“I see,” said Jhonate. “Then this is why you have been training those fish to eat troll flesh. You think that they will devour this creature.”

 

“Bit by bit,” he said. “It is a large undertaking, something that I do not hope to complete in my lifetime, but I have seen it as a legacy that I could leave our people. One day we would retake KhanzaRoo. It is a dream that your father shares.”

 

 “But how could that work?” Jhexin asked. “Why would this thing allow itself to be eaten? Would it not just consume these fish?”

 

“The Troll Mother has become large and inactive and doesn’t feel pain like you or I. The constant nibbles of fish would likely be of little concern for her. Besides, the Troll Queen modified her to consume nutrients on a much smaller level. It is rare for her to eat a living creature.” He scratched his head. “Or at least that was my belief before.”

 

“Before what?” Willum said.

 

Deathclaw turned toward the door. He slid his sword part way from its scabbard. “Something approaches.”

 

“Stand back,” Bluth said, placing a hand on the raptoid’s shoulder. Deathclaw’s eyes narrowed and his lips pulled back, exposing his teeth in a long hiss.

 

Stolz stood from the couch and moved to stand in front of the door. “Now, I told you before that two bonded was all my weak magic allowed. You haven’t yet met my second. It is my cat, Yowler.”

 

Deathclaw’s nostrils flared. “That is no cat.”

 


Ho-ho! It sure isn’t
,” the imp agreed. “
Wait till you see this, Willy
.”

 

What is it
? Willum asked.

 


You’ll see soon enough
.”

 

“She is no threat,” Stolz assured them. “Please stay calm.” He opened the door. “Come, Yowler. Say hello to my friends.”

 

What came up the steps was unlike any cat Willum had ever seen. It was large, its shoulders reaching the height of Stolz hips. He supposed that its basic shape was feline, but it was greenish and coated head to tail in slime. The front half of the cat was covered in bristling fur that was matted and slime soaked, but the back half of its body was hairless and glistened with the consistency of troll skin. It had a vicious maw full of razor teeth, but the most disturbing part of all were the two trollish red eyes that looked around the room at them.

 

Stolz crouched next to it and pet it with long strokes, ignoring the slime that clung to his hand. The cat leaned against him and arched its back and closed its eyes as it let out a rumbling purr.

 

“Eww,” said Jhexin.

 

“Bluth found her nearly ten years ago, just a kitten prowling the swamps,” Stolz said. “He took a liking to her and picked her up to bring back and show me.”

 

“She was like this . . . as a kitten?” Vannya said, her eyes wide. She was so entranced in her observation of the cat, that she had stopped writing.

 

“No-no,” said Stolz. “Yowler was just a regular cat back then. A tawny one with stripes. I have no idea how she ended up out here alone. Perhaps she wandered away from one of the villages. I had just lost my previous bonded, a beautiful lala bird that had died of old age. Her name was Miss Treesh and I missed her terribly.”

 


This guy loves the details
,” Theodore grumbled.

 

“When Bluth brought Yowler to the door, we bonded immediately,” Stolz continued. “Such a good cat. A strong mouser. A real cuddler. Would you believe she saved my life once? We were-.”

 

“What the hell happened to the thing?” Vannya blurted. Stolz gave her a stunned look and her freckled cheeks reddened. “I . . . apologize for my roughness. My mind is just focused on the mission. Uh, how did your lovely cat become . . . this?”

 

The bonding wizard cleared his throat. He let go of the cat and it wandered to the rear of the cabin, where it curled up on the slime-soaked grass mats that covered Bluth’s bed. “It was about eight weeks ago. Yowler became distressed. She cried out in alarm through the bond. The vivid image of sharp teeth flashed through her thoughts and she disappeared.”

 

He put his hand on his chest. “I panicked. At first I thought she was dead, but I have experienced the death of a bonded before and this wasn’t it. She was just gone. The bond couldn’t even give me a direction as to where she was. I went to the place where she had last been but I saw nothing.

 

“About a week later, I felt her presence again. She was deep in the swamp and unconscious and . . . different. I tried to wake her, but she couldn’t hear me. Then one morning, she awoke. Her mind was wild and hungry and strange. It took a while for me to get through to her, but then she recognized my voice. Slowly her memories returned and she came home like she is now. She is still Yowler, but she is part troll.”

 

“And you think that what happened to her has something to do with this Troll Mother that lives under the swamp?” Vannya asked.

 

“I wasn’t sure before, but now that I have seen the creature you brought to me . . . I am confident,” he said. “I have searched Yowler’s memories and it is a bit hazy, but when she awoke, there were a group of people there.”

 

Stolz gestured at his eyes. “The way her trollish vision works doesn’t give me a clear view of what they looked like, just blobs of heat without a great deal of detail. But there were many of them. She felt a kinship with this people as if they were family to her in some way. If it hadn’t been for her bond with me I believe she would have stayed with them. What if these creatures that you have run into are part of this group? People that were swallowed by the Troll Mother and reborn as something new?”

 

“By the gods,” said Jhexin, his stunned eyes locked with Jhonate’s. “All those missing villagers. What if they were not captured by the Roo-Dan after all?”

 

“Our people. Taken . . . and changed,” said Jhonate in horror. “Turned into monsters.”

 
Chapter Eighteen
 

 

 

“Let’s us go back to the weirdies!” Durza complained, tugging on the back of Talon’s robes. Her voice was high pitched and nasal. “Master’ll find us when he’s ready.”

 

“Ssilence!” Talon said. She was on all fours, examining the tracks of a creature she was unfamiliar with. The track was over a week old, but she could see that it had clawed feet and its scent was teeming with magical overtones. The area was covered in such tracks. “There may be enemiess nearby!”

 

If someone saw the two of them from a distance, they would have made for an odd sight on the outskirts of the swamps. One woman concealed under hooded black robes. One red-headed woman wearing a frilly light blue dress. Up close, their presence would have been cause for alarm.

 

Talon had once been a raptoid but, under the constant magical ministrations of Ewzad Vriil, had been transformed into a lithe, quick, and deadly assassin. Durza’s leathery and mottled green skin didn’t at all match the wig and dress she wore. She was a clumsy gorc that had been born with powerful bewitching magic.

 

Durza stomped her foot. “I telled you there’s not no enemies! My witchy witch magic says there’s only frogs and bugs and a cat and a turtle . . .” she squinted her eyes shut and pointed a dirty finger to the north. “And a piggy. Maybe you catch the piggy and we eat it? I like to eat piggies.”

 

Talon hissed, wanting to tear the stupid red wig off of the gorc’s head and stomp it into the mud at the side of the trail. Only she had already done so twice already this morning and it hadn’t fixed anything. Both times the gorc had merely put the dirty thing back on her head and increased her whining. Durza had an obsession for the trappings of humanity. She loved dresses and wigs and makeup, anything that made her feel beautiful. She’d still be wearing those awful ill-fitting human shoes if Talon hadn’t cut them to shreds.

 

 “No piggiess,” Talon snapped. Then again, the thought of slaughtering a pig was appealing to her. “Maybe later. Firsst we go back to the cave. We see what the Masster wantss of uss.”

 

“Don’t wanna see him now!” Durza complained. She stepped off of the trail and stumbled in the dense foliage, her long frilly dress catching underfoot. She swayed and her voice took on a plaintive tone. “Let’s us stay here tonight. Cook the piggy, Talon. We go back to the weirdies in the mornin’.”

 

Much had changed since Talon and Durza had left Pinewood over six months ago. The thing that had come to vex Talon the most was that Durza no longer feared her. Once Durza had realized that Talon no longer intended to kill her, she had become a lot less willing to do the raptoid’s bidding. The result was constant complaining.

 

Durza still did what Talon demanded eventually, but nothing came easy. It took every ounce of self-control the raptoid had not to cut her or beat her every time Durza argued. Self-control was something relatively new for Talon and it was something that she had very little of. She feared that one day she would snap and kill the gorc. She had nightmares where this would happen and when she awoke to find Durza still alive, Talon considered leaving.

 

Matthew, the ancient and powerful man that was Talon’s new master, said that this was a good sign. He told her that the very fact that she feared for the safety of her friend showed that she wasn’t as broken as she thought. This friendship was a healthy thing for her.

 

 Despite his assurances, it was a constant struggle. Both Matthew and John had muted the darkness inside her, yet Talon felt the compulsion to kill constantly. She had found her claws inches from the gorc’s throat many times.

 

“Do you not ssee that the army was here?” Talon reasoned. “Masster may be hurt!”

 

Some time ago, the Prophet had come to the master’s cave to warn him that an army was approaching. An ‘army of demons’, he had called it. Talon wasn’t sure what made something a demon, but she had found the tracks of kobalds and this new creature. There had even been a few humans and gnomes mixed in. Talon wasn’t good at figuring numbers, but she knew there were a lot. Enough that she was worried for Matthew’s safety.

 

“I’m not worried about the master.” Durza said. “He is big magical like the Prophet man. I like the weirdies. I wanna go back there.”

 

Talon scowled. The weirdies was Durza’s name for the creatures Matthew called thulls. Talon found the presence of the large passive beasts disturbing. How could something so formidable be so gentle? It made her itch. Durza, on the other hand, found the way that their simple minds reacted to her magic comforting. This was the first time she had been this reluctant to leave the village, though.

 

Talon stopped and turned on the gorc, her voice tinged with suspicion. “Why iss you acting thiss way? You alwayss want to ssee Masster. You like his cookingss.”

 

Durza folded her arms and looked away, refusing to meet Talon’s eyes. “Not today. Today I like the weirdies best.”

 

“What iss it?” Talon said, coming closer and baring her teeth threateningly. “What doess you know? Does your magic ssee ssomething?”

 

 Durza turned completely away from her. “Nope.”

 

Talon grabbed the gorc’s shoulder and spun her back around to face her. Talon’s claws punctured the frilly dress, digging into Durza’s skin. A soft, but insistent voice in the back of her mind cried,
Tear her. Bleed her. Eat her
! Talon pushed back the compulsion. “What do you ssee, Durza?”

 

 “Ouch! You is hurtinged me, Talon. You . . .” Durza had learned where Talon’s breaking point was and knew that the raptoid was very close to it. She sighed. “Master is not there. He gone!”

 

“Where?” Talon said, tightening her grip.

 

“Agh! I dunno. Ow-ow-ow!” Durza gasped.

 

Talon forced her hands to unclench. “Why did you not ssay thiss before?”

 

“Master sayed not to. Ooh! My dress!” Durza said, looking at the small tears in the fabric. “This’ll be ruined now too!”

 

Talon felt no guilt about that. The gorc had ruined four of the dresses she had dragged from Pinewood already. This one was already filthy and ragged, looking much less like the powder blue it had been and more like the dried mud and troll slime that coated it. Talon would much rather Durza give up her obsession with such dresses. All they did was slow her down.

 

“When did he tell you?” Talon pressed.

 

Durza pouted. “When we was leavin’ the cave. Master talked to me in my brain. He sayed that he was maybe leavin’ and he telled me to try and keep you from chasin’ after him as long as I could.”

 

Talon hissed. This explained the gorc’s behavior over the past few days as she had whined and cajoled, using every way she could think of to delay their return. She turned away from Durza and shed her black robe. Leaving the cumbersome thing behind as she headed for Matthew’s cave.

 

“Wait for me!” the gorc hollered. She picked up Talon’s robe and hiked up her dress to try and keep up.

 

Talon sped through the jungle undergrowth, keeping to tight trails that she had followed many times over the last few months. If she hadn’t been so concerned for her master, she would have enjoyed the freedom that came from shedding the heavy garment that Matthew made her wear.

 

He had told her that the robe’s main purpose was to hide Talon’s true nature from the thulls in the village, but she had been able to feel the calming magical influence that he had woven into its fibers. Right now she did not want to be calmed.

 

The closer she drew to Matthew’s cave home, the more evidence there was of the army’s invasion. The demons must have camped there for at least two nights. Vines and small trees had been hacked down and sections of earth cleared for the setting of tents, while scattered here and there were the cold black husks of abandoned cook fires.

 

Soon, she heard the sound of rushing water. The area right around Matthew’s waterfall showed the most damage. The area had been completely wiped clean of foliage and there was refuse scattered about.

 

Talon’s heartbeat quickened with anger as she ducked behind the waterfall to find her master’s front door left wide open. Matthew’s floor and the fine rug that sat in front of the fireplace were soaked from the constant mist of the waterfall. The interior didn’t look like a cave at all. It resembled one of the finer homes of Pinewood. Wooden walls and plush furnishings.

 

Everything seemed to be in its place. Talon moved to Matthew’s workbench and opened the chest he stored beneath it. Several items of magical power were there, including the last remaining white orb. She thought that strange. Whatever the army had done here, they hadn’t bothered to loot the place.

 

She was headed towards her master’s bedroom when a distinct scent crossed her nose. Talon let out a hissing growl. Blood. Her master’s blood.

 

Talon crouched down, letting her nose lead her to the place. When she found the darkish stain on the floorboards, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders. It was definitely Matthew’s blood, but there wasn’t much of it. Just a few drops. He had been wounded, but the intruders hadn’t killed him. Or if they had, they hadn’t done it here.

 

She was still crouched there, pondering what it meant when Durza burst through the door, a frown on her face. “I telled you he weren’t here!”

 

“They took him,” Talon replied, a certainty coming over her. “Thiss army hurtss Masster and took him away.”

 

The whiny tone left the gorc’s voice. “He knowed this was gonna happen.” Durza approached Talon and ran a soothing hand across the top of the raptoid’s scaled head. Talon felt the urge to let go of her urgency and relax. She knew that it came from the gorc’s magic. “He wanted us to stay and wait. Protect the weirdies.”

 

Talon drew back from her hand and stood. “You will not calm me. Not this time.”

 

“What is you gonna do?” Durza asked worriedly.

 

“I will go and ssave him. Bring Masster back,” Talon decided.

 

Durza shook her head violently. “No way. That army is too big-big.”

 

“I do not intendss to fight them all,” Talon said with a snort. “I will be quiet. I will be ssneaky. Ewwie taught me to be quiet and ssneaky.”

 

“But I’m not, Talon. I’m not!” Durza reasoned.

 

Talon cocked her head. “You are the good one. You do as Masster wishes. Sstay with the village. I will go and getss him.”

 

“N-no, Talon.” Durza clutched her arm and pleaded, “Don’t leave me ‘lone. Don’t leave me ‘looone.”

 

Talon understood her stress. The last time she had gone out and left the gorc behind, she had been captured by Mellinda. Weeks had gone by before the Prophet freed her and she was able to return. Unfortunately, she had to do this alone. She needed to use her old skills for a time and she could not do that with Durza at her side.

 

“I musst.” Talon caressed her arm gently, a rare sign of affection from a creature for whom affection had previously been a precursor to violence. She pulled herself out of the gorc’s grasp.

 

“W-wait,” Durza said, tears rolling down her cheeks. She picked up Talon’s black robes and handed them to her. “Take this. He maked them to hide you. Maybe they will help.”

 

Talon didn’t wish to do as she asked, but Durza’s expression was desperate. Reluctantly, she slid the robe back on. She pulled the hood down over her head. Its calming influence was subtle. She could remove it if needed.

 

Talon left without another word. Durza would likely just try to convince her to stay longer. She did not know if Matthew could afford that.

 

She set herself on the demon army’s trail, putting the gorc out of her mind. Durza would be fine travelling back to the village on her own. Her bewitching magic would keep any of the swamp’s dangers away.

 

Once she reached the forest’s edge, Talon noticed that the army’s tactics changed. They began hiding their tracks. They cleaned up after themselves and the magic of the kobalds left the earth undisturbed by their passing. This didn’t hide them from Talon, of course. Though they were many days ahead of her, the trail left by their magic was as easy for her to sense as a trail of blood.

 

She extended her senses to their limit and moved at a quick pace, avoiding any intelligent creatures and the delay that such meetings might cause. She only stopped to eat if an easy hunting opportunity presented itself. Gone were the days when Talon would torture her prey for fun. The Prophet’s help had numbed that desire, but she still savored a good kill.

 

As much as she had learned to enjoy the intricate mix of flavors brought on by human cooking, there was something far more satisfying about eating an animal the moment its heart stopped beating. Perhaps it was a remnant of her raptoid instincts.

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