33. Debt Owed
"I can't believe you need to come all this way for herbs, lass," the old trader commented as his passenger climbed down from the wagon.
The girl smiled as she raised her hands to take the large basket he handed down to her. "The herbs here are much fresher than those nearer the city, Woodrow," she offered as her reason for coming to such unstable territory.
The trader huffed. "Well, I still don't understand you insisting on going about here without an escort. It's madness if you ask me."
Again she smiled. "I am not asking you, Woodrow. I come from these parts originally so I know my way around."
Gathering the reins in his calloused hands, Woodrow readied to move out. He sighed heavily. Shaking his head he looked at the girl once more. "I'll be back again in a couple of hours, as normal."
"I shall meet you here then," she said, pulling her hood up and stepping back. Spring air here was a little cooler than in Capital City.
Woodrow clucked his tongue and flicked the reins. The two-horse wagon trundled away, its load of furs and hides along with some crafted goods bumping about under the secured cover.
She waited until Woodrow was out of sight before she started her journey towards the pass. Her visit this time was filled with conflicting emotions.
Initially, she had been helping a childhood friend get some information, nothing more. Even early on, she did question the morality of what she was doing. Her friend, after all, had become somewhat bitter, recently. Understandable, she guessed, considering the circumstances, but still, her behaviour unnerved her. The friendship was becoming strained.
She wished they could return to the days when times were more innocent – at least for the two little girls they were back then. There had always been conflict between the peoples since she could remember, but somehow, two children managed to overlook their differences and become friends – albeit secretly. If either of their parents found out, she was sure they would be angry, to say the least.
She fought a sob. Her parents, of course, were no longer, she had been on her own, in a manner-of-speaking, for a few years.
The kindly priest, Cyrus Deighton, had found her amidst the ruins of her village following an attack by the troll war parties. Cyrus had taken her, along with the other parent-less youngsters, back to Capital City. There they were looked after at the orphanage.
When asked how they had survived, she did not dare confess the truth. She could not tell them that she had escaped harm through a forbidden intervention. All she told the priest and the Matron was she took some of her friends to play a game in a cave to the east of her home. They had all been so carried away playing they had not realised how late it was. The screams from the village started at dusk and echoed throughout the night. Terrified, the children knew not to venture from the cave. Once dawn arrived, they returned to their village.
The gratuitous scene of slaughter which greeted them should have shocked her to the core and made her hate her unusual acquaintance, but for some reason, it did not. Instead, she inwardly thanked her friend for having spared her life and that of the other children. And she knew she owed a debt.
Now, however, she questioned things. Not openly, for she was certain that would visit trouble upon herself and she was not a brave person, at least not by her accounts.
She kept her head low, collecting some goldthorn, sungrass and fadeleaf on the way. This was an unusually quiet stretch of road, only some foraging creatures weaved in and out of the tree line hunting some morsels on which to dine. Nonetheless, it unnerved her a little. Few humans came this far as the magic behind the border was much more potent than many were accustomed to.
The shimmer ahead depicted the giant elf-gate which separated the Blackened Woods from the rest of the land. This, she had been advised by her friend, was put in place by the invading high elves eons ago and it infuriated the trolls (whose land it was in the first place). The trolls knew not how to diffuse its power, but they were not without their own way through to Eastweald and other territories within the largely human and dwarf dominions. They had their own passages which wove through the hills, not forgetting their own sorcerers who could teleport in and out at will.
It was the latter method which would take her to her friend. A trusted accomplice materialised a few yards ahead. He did not speak, never did. She wondered if he actually could talk. She tried desperately to push other more sinister reasons for his silence to the back of her head. These thoughts had only arisen in recent months when she realised her friend had a certain agenda.
The familiar routine began with a wave of his arms. Although he uttered incoherent sounds – more like grunts and hums, it was always a little unsettling for the girl. Magic was not something she understood, but she did find it intriguing. Even darker forms of conjury, such as the illusion the troll now cast upon her, fascinated her.
The tingle which flowed through her very being was strange, yet exciting. She closed her eyes as the magic took hold. She convinced herself that tusks sprouted from her gums, her fingers fused to form three digits instead of five and her hair was pulled taut in many thin, beaded braids. Her friend had explained it was only a visual deception, there was no actual physical change. But, still she 'felt' altered.
The troll's vocalisation ceased. Opening her eyes, the girl was met with his piercing stare. Slowly, he turned – her cue to follow.
The vibrations she felt next were from her transference to Zul'aman, the troll city in the Blackened Woods. Journeying through portals could be rather disorienting to the lesser experienced traveller, but she had done this enough times now to pass through without any side-effects.
As expected, she arrived in her friend's hut. The array of pots, bowls and urns were in their usual places. Each contained all sorts of items used by her friend in her mystical practices; a variety of seeds, coloured powders, small bones, feathers, beads – even teeth. She smiled at the one which held simple fruit.
She inhaled the kef-infused air. It was a little guilty pleasure in which she indulged and one she was definitely in need of on this occasion. She needed to relax. A small central fire crackled and burned keeping the hut warm and it made her a little confident that she would soon feel more at ease.
"Welcome mi bredren," a voice spoke from behind a screen.
She jumped a little and looked to where the voice had come from. "Hello, Tulu," she replied.
Amid the click-clack of beads and necklaces, the hexxer moved out from behind the screen. As always, she was heavily adorned in tribal jewellery, macabre though some pieces were - to a human at least.
Eyes the colour of sunflowers greeted the girl with an unsettling intensity. "Wi nuh ave lang todeh, mi ave oddah mattas which need tended to. Di war gainst di elves ave priority – apparently," the troll said, a sneer rippling her lips.
"Has that not always been the case?" the girl said, timidly.
Tulu sashayed over. She lifted the girl's chin and stared at her. She detected a slight tremor and scoffed. "It intafeerin wid mi plans fi di Nightflame bowy."
Trying to conceal her dismay, the girl forced her voice steady. "What more is there?"
The yellow eyes burned, fury rising. "Him robbed mi of happiness, suh wi mi deny him!"
The girl pulled away but remained silent. Tulu was wise what plagued her though. "Mi si tears inna yuh eyes. Ave yuh pretty bowy taken fi him bride den?" She was answered by a mere nod. Tulu laughed. "Foolish gyal, him tainted."
"He has not had it easy either, Tulu," she answered, defensively.
Instantly, the girl regretted her utterance as her cheek felt the sting of a sharp slap. The rattle of beads and bones sounded close to her face as the troll gripped her by the arms and shook her. "Him nuh kno wah it is to struggle, to haffi fight to survive! Him chooses fi him own path - fi profit, an den carves one fi odders! Yuh yuhself tell mi him ave had a privileged lifestyle, him want fi nuttin. Ow den ave him nuh had it easy?"
"Please stop! You're hurting me." The girl wailed.
Tulu pushed her away and strode over to her table of powders and potions. She picked up three small vials, studying them closely. A noise outside her hut then had her quickly replacing them in their respective holders. She whirled round and came back to the girl, shoving her towards the screen. "Quick! Ova der!" she whispered.
"Tulu!"
The two women stopped in their tracks. Someone had entered the hut. The girl looked askance at Tulu. The troll's rigid posture indicated this was an unexpected interruption. Nudging the girl forward a little more she told her to tidy things from behind the screen. The girl scurried behind the reed partition. Kirtles and skirts were scattered on the floor and draped over a stool. A myriad of necklaces and bracelets hung on individually carved notches of the hut wall.
Her attention, however, was drawn to the confrontation beyond the screen. She inched nearer, a split in the bindings allowing her a view of the man who had entered.
For all he was minus an eye and his left arm, she still knew who he was. Many years ago Tulu had pointed him out from a distance as the two girls hid behind one of the Loa statues. Apart from his deformities, there was no mistaking the commanding and fearsome leader of the troll nation. There seemed little that could be done to this individual to make him any less imposing.
She shrank back a little as Zul'jin gestured to the screen with a jut of his chin. Tulu waved a dismissive hand and muttered something only her father heard. Creeping closer to the gap again, the girl watched and listened with interest to the exchange between father and daughter.
"Fada, waah da yuh require of me?" Tulu bowed before the Chieftain.
"Wah mek yuh nuh at di temple?" he asked, low.
"Mi making final preparations fi di rituals, fada," Tulu replied, hovering back at her table of potions and powders.
The Chieftain wandered over beside her. "Mi kno yuh ave suffa, mi feel yuh grief, but yuh muss focus fi wi needs as a tribe, a nation."
The rattle of adornments was the only hint that Tulu was offended. Her voice was kept hushed, but still, the girl could make out her response. "Mi haffi mek things right. Roshu's death cyaa guh unanswered fi."
The girl's eyes widened as she saw Zul'jin grab his daughter's wrist and spin her to face him. Bearing down on her he warned her. "Nuh offend di Loa, Tulu, or yuh run di risk of dem wrath apan wi people!"
His daughter did not answer, but she held his gaze. Zul'jin released her arm and turned away. "Roshu be a proud warria, an him death waz tragic, but, it is a risk wi all tek wen wi at war." He faced his daughter once more. "Yuh wi nuh pursue dis vendetta, Tulu. Da killa wi cum to a sticky end soon enuf. Dem aal wi." Then in three deliberate strides, he exited the hut.
The girl was unsure whether to emerge from the screen and waited until she was told to come out. She moved to the troll's side. Tulu was collecting the little vials again. She popped them into the small basket the girl had brought with her, hiding them in between the gathered herbs. "Put a few drops inna him bride's food or jink, eitha fos ting inna di mawnin or laas ting at night," she instructed.
"What?" the girl gasped. "You want me to kill her?"
Tulu's eyes softened a little and a small laugh escaped her. "It wi mek har sterile. Mi wi nuh tolerate dat monsta half-breed's issue being baan."
The girl was horrified.
"Waat? Yuh wudda radda it kill her?"
"N-no! But…"
Tulu swept past her to the door and called the accomplice who had brought her little servant through the portal. She stepped back into the room.
The girl noted the look of hatred in Tulu's eyes. At that point she knew without a doubt, the troll would defy her own father and continue her vengeful practices against Sauren. "Listen well, gyal. Him wi forget yuh soon enuff, yuh ave serve yuh purpose fi him carnal needs. Dat one wi find pleasure wen an weh him wan it, mek no mistake. Him wedding band wi nuh tap him wandering, suh tek comfort inna knowing it waas neva personal."
The troll's words stung. A grunt from behind informed her the transport back to Eastweald was ready. She nodded to Tulu and turned to leave.
Just before she stepped through the portal, Tulu issued one last warning. "An Heidy, forget nuh… mi kno powerful magic. Mi hold yuh life inna mi hands as well as yuh young Master's."
The girl swallowed, then stepped over the magic threshold.