Philippe and Carys both headed for the front door. Just outside, they could see not one, not two, but three of the massive and hideous creatures. "What are highland trolls doing here?" Philippe needed to understand the true gravity of the situation, so Carys decided to clarify the situation for him.
"The bigger question, Love, is how they got past Gramma's wards?" She was already limbering her bow and readying an arrow. He hefted his two heavy blades, as if preparing for a sparring match, an unsettling grin upon his face.
"I've no idea." He grinned at her. "Shall we, m'dear?"
"Aw now, ain't that cute, Duncan, the wee mites think they're going to fight us." Philippe couldn't stop the shudder that shook his sturdy frame. It was a female, the massive udders swinging just above his head as he rolled in close for a strike at her Achilles' tendon blatantly declaring her gender when her deep voice didn't. If she landed just right, those alone could crush him.
She was also faster than he expected, dodging his strike before it landed. "'Cor! Lookit! He tried to cut me leg, the little dreep!"
"S'what ya get when ye stand there jabbering instead of fighting, Manda!" The largest one was laughing at her as he plucked Carys' arrows out of his arm. She noticed they didn't come any closer than the base of Gramma's hill. Apparently, some of her wards were still working, or else they'd be battering down her house with their giant clubs. At least it gave her a vantage point to shoot from, but their hides were proving hard to penetrate.
"Ye might want to take yer own advice!" The smaller male cursed as the heavy club the one called Duncan swung in trying to hit Philippe struck him square in the gut. That wily wolfkin had dodged between the troll's legs, using one troll against the other.
"Why's that, Connor, eh? You're the one hit!" The larger one took time to laugh, holding his giant gut as he did so. He never saw the smaller one's fist as it struck him full on the jaw.
"Would you two glaikcits knock it off? We're supposed to squish that little green cape there, not each other!" Carys found herself leaping out of the way of the very large log the female troll lobbed at her. This could get messy very quickly. Philippe was still dodging and tumbling about their feet, though he didn't seem to be doing much good with his swords. Heavy as they were, they couldn't cut through the thick hides. He was doing more good leading them into each other, so seemed to concentrate on that.
From over her shoulder, Carys caught a green and brown blur that launched itself upon the trolls. Thigh to arm to head, it bounded over the trolls like a mountain goat on a cliffside.
"Llew! If you get smacked!"
"Shush ye! This isn't as easy as it looks!" Llewelyn was doing a good job of gadfly. The troll, Conner, was smacking himself silly trying to hit him. She idly wondered if it would beat itself into submission before it figured out Llew's game.
Duncan was still chasing Philippe. Philippe rolled under Connor's legs, and then dashed between Manda's. Neither Duncan or Connor were aware of the other, and they crashed, falling heavily into the girl troll. A lucky kick punted Philippe straight up the hill to sprawl next to Carys. Llew, who had been launched willy nilly from Connor's shoulder, landed heavily next to them.
"So glad you could join the festivities." The dry humor in Philippe's voice left Carys giggling softly. The sound of it even drew a smile to Llew's perfect lips, but the humor soon left his face as his brows drew down in a thoughtful frown.
"I've never seen trolls so heavily shielded." The worry on his face went a long way to stilling Carys' merriment.
"What?"
"The trolls, they're practically glowing with wards." Llew seemed to be studying them carefully, as the three trolls continued to bicker and fight amongst themselves, since their quarry was temporarily out of reach.
"That explains much." Carys carefully considered the three trolls. She didn't like that their squabble seemed to be winding down. The female was already searching for something heavy to throw again.
"But who?" Philippe cut himself short. He had a feeling he already knew. Carys only confirmed it for him.
"Need you really ask? Who has anything to gain by getting rid of me, personally?" She stomped her little foot in irritation.
"That fiend! I hope Uncle skewers him." Carys hugged her growling wolfkin. She loved how protective he was of her. It made her feel cherished. She utterly ignored the grimace on Llewelyn's face.
"He'd have to beat both Wren and Nerys to it." Her teasing reminder earned her a flash of his darling dimples and a quirk of that braided mustache she adored. Llewelyn drew them back to reality.
"If you two are done being dramatic, we still have three very angry trolls to deal with over here?" Llew gestured at the three trolls now going about pulling up a fully grown spruce tree. The bole was so big, even Duncan couldn't reach all the way around it. Apparently, the three trolls felt bigger was better. Carys shuddered to think what they were planning to do with it.
"Well, getting them to beat themselves and each other up seemed to be our best strategy." Philippe was thoughtfully stroking his beard as he watched them. It was easy to tell he was already planning his own angle of attack.
"That's fine, but I doubt they'd be so accommodating as to let me climb them so readily this time."
"I could give you a hand up, there." Llewelyn didn't care for the evil grin spreading across the wolfkin's face.
"I wonder….." Carys was staring thoughtfully up on the porch, at a massive coil of rope, one thick enough it looked like something to moor ships or draw up anchors.
"What is it, Carys?" Philippe was open to any and all ideas at this point. The trolls about had the tree out of the ground.
"See that length of rope there on the porch? Do you think it'd hold them?" She pointed out the massive coil to both men.
"Wouldn't hurt to try!" Philippe took the coil and hoisted it over his shoulder. It was bulky, but he'd still be able to dodge and tumble without trouble. He carefully tied a loop in the end large enough to snare a troll's foot or hand. This part could get tricksy.
"Ready?" Stancing himself just so, Philip formed a platform for Llew with his hands. Llew carefully placed his foot in the waiting
"Ready!" Philippe launched the hunter with all his might, the blonde sailing straight as an arrow towards the largest troll's shoulder, where he quickly kicked off towards the female's head.
"Jeez, mate! Don't you ever eat? My little sister weighs more!" The cajolery came from under Connor's feet. The wolfkin having already snared his ankle, and was winding his way around Duncan's stomping feet.
"Belt it, wolfkin." How Llew had any breath left as he dodged flailing fists and clubs, Carys didn't know. She'd doctored her arrows with stingwort, hoping to do some good before she ran out of arrows. She couldn't just stand there helpless!
Her stubborness was rewarded when Manda shrieked and cursed, rubbing her eyes furiously. Apparently, some of the stingwort had gotten from her hands to her eyes, and as she rubbed, she made it worse. The other two soon joined her in a cacophony of cursing. Amazing how a simple herb could bypass all those careful wards the Crooked Dwarf had placed on them. At that point, it became a simple chore for Philippe and Llew to tie them up together. The rope was more than adequate to the job.
Once bound, Carys even wiped their eyes with a cleansing agent to remove the stingwort, and balmed it with some aloe. It wasn't so much charity as simple practicality. Her ears needed a rest from their constant bellyaching.
"And you wanted to put that on my wounds?" Philippe looked at her with something akin to horror coloring his lovely features. Llew just snickered at him.
"I did put stingwort on your wounds. It's a marvelous antiseptic, that's why it stings." Carys pertly snapped back, stepping down from the last troll, surveying her handiwork. In but a couple minutes, even Conner settled and quieted.
"Well, now what do we do with them? We know the Crooked Dwarf sent them." Philippe scuffed the grass under his feet absentmindedly as he considered the conundrum the three bound trolls presented.
"That's odd…." Llew immediately had both Carys' and Philippe's attention at the mild alarm in his voice.
"What's odd?" The question came from Philippe. He was hoping the answer would shed light on their problem.
"The wards. They're fading." Llew was studying the three trolls closely, knit brows showing his concentration.
"That would only happen if…" Carys was never allowed to finish her sentence.
"The imp called the Crooked Dwarf is no more. That grumpy uncle of Philippe's and Wren took care of him. You can safely let these three go. They will not come back or bother any of us again. Am I not right, Duncan, Connor, and Manda?" From her first words, the grand figure of the Blind Witch had everyone's attention. The three trolls hastily gave their assent, knowing their continued good health was dependent upon it, and both Llew and Philippe began the arduous chore of unwinding all the rope that bound them.
"Gramma! You're home early!" Carys resisted the urge to fly into her gram's arms, and settled for giving her a rather sedate hug.
"I was needed here more than there, it seemed." A faint smile curved her grandmother's lips as she gracefully accepted her granddaughter's hug. "Now, what's this business about calling yourself married?" Carys didn't care a bit for the stern gaze her grandmother fixed upon her. She felt five again after having dropped the sugar bowl for the hundredth time. She started to fidget.
"Well, aren't I?" Philippe certainly seemed to think they were, and she certainly felt married.
"Consummating a marriage is not enough, child. And it usually comes AFTER" To call Gramma's tone dry would have been an understatement. Carys was sure she could see the grass around their feet wither before her eyes.
"Well, then. I want to fix that as soon as possible." Grandmother Leary's lip twitched at Carys' quick reply.
"Soon enough, you do want your sister and cousin here for it, I'd assume?" Carys watched as more grass seemed to keel over at her grandmother's dry words.
"Well, yes." came the grudging reply.