They made their way north towards the dead village with the funny name. Cassandra did not know how far they would have to go, and what they should do after they had come there was not even discussed.

"We'll see when we get there," she told the troll. "Continuing north would probably be best."

At night they slept wherever they found shelter, and walked as long as there was light.

The second evening, as dusk was falling, Jah'ren stopped and sniffed the air a long time.

"Bad," he mumbled. "Bad smell."

They had the wind from behind, and the experienced hunter did not like the fact that there suddenly had appeared a new smell in it.

"Something behind us, not there long, " he said, looking back at their footprints in the sand. "Kass ready for fight?"

She was just about to ask why a smell in the wind would trouble him this much when she noticed a movement in the corner of an eye; a tall, skinny shadow under the rockface beside the beach. Then she remembered what the farmer had told them about trolls setting up camp.

A bird called, but to her keen and now also alert ears it was evident that it was not just any bird. Jah'ren called back, mimicking the sound. Some minutes she watched him fascinated as he seemingly communicated with the fake bird somewhere ahead of them.

The first troll that came out of hiding was only few meters away, in a bush Cassandra never had thought could conceal a bunny. And then the beach was filled with them, moving silently with their weapons drawn.

In a matter of minutes they had the couple surrounded.

"Kass not talk," Jah'ren whispered urgently. "Do as I say."

She nodded, trying to keep as close to him as possible. The trolls circled them until a big, greyish one stepped through the circle and spoke.

Cassandra could not do anything but watch and listen as Jah'ren and the other troll talked in their strange, slightly rhythmic language. After some minutes the other troll seemed to get annoyed, and then he tried to grab her arm. Before he could even touch her Jah'ren had the other's arm in one hand, snarling through bared teeth.

There was a rustling of weaponry from the circle around them, and the grey troll pulled his arm back, grinning, but flames raging in his eyes.

An angry discussion later they were herded from the beach and up to a little hilltop where two tents stood.

Jah'ren came close to Cassandra, keeping his voice low when he spoke.

"You are my pet. Do not speak. Do what I tell you."

"I am your pet?" she asked, not able to let something like that pass without an explanation.

"Yes. They have respect for hunter, not kill you. Trust Jah'ren."

She nodded, hoping he had any idea what they were getting themselves into, because being surrounded by these trolls did not make her feel safe in any way.

There were more trolls up in the camp, all of them staring at Cassandra with eyes full of hatred and wonder as she passed them. For the first time in her life she saw the female trolls, and realised they were no less armoured or armed than the male tribes members. Every troll in the camp had warpaint on, and Cassandra pined for a chance to ask Jah'ren why, as well as what they were doing there in a country filled with the Alliance's soldiers.

The large grey troll at the head of the group spoke to the whole camp, waving his arms in the direction of the strangers. Immediately after a tall female came out from one of the tents, a heavy axe slung across her back. Cassandra regretted giving up talking Jah'ren into teaching her some of his language, because she would have given an arm to know what the heated word exchange that followed was about.

Then the argument seemed to be over. Jah'ren motioned towards Cassandra with a hand and spoke with one of the female trolls who were preparing food by a fire. Then he turned to her and whispered.

"Stay with this troll. If some hurt you or you afraid, call for me. Jah'ren come."

"Where are you going?" she asked desperately.

"I come back. No fear. Okey."

"No, not Okey," she said, but all she got was a firm look and a nod.

Watching him disappear into the tent on the other side of the camp she grasped her dagger tightly and tried not to look as scared as she felt.

"Be strong," she told herself.

The troll at the fire motioned Cassandra to sit. She did, cautiously and with one hand still on her dagger. More trolls closed in around her, but carefully not to get too near.

At first she though they were guarding her in case she would do something, but soon she discovered the curiosity in their eyes, reminding her of how Jah'ren had first looked at her, as if she was some strange, exotic animal they suddenly found a chance to study.

The female by the fire seemed a little different from the others, there was no warpaint on her and she was less armed than the rest of her tribe. Cassandra watched, trying to look interested, as she threw ingredients into a large boiling pot on the fire.

A slim female troll almost crawled up beside them, stretching one hand towards Cassandra and, touching her shoulder carefully, pulled back to the rest of the flock. Cassandra heard her tell the others something in a voice filled with amazement and pride.

Then the one she now thought of as the cook spoke, the younger trolls around them listening politely. This comforted Cassandra slightly, because it was obvious even to her that the cook had respect and Jah'ren had told her to stay with the female troll.

A greenblue hand stretched out and touched the human's braided hair warily, before the troll leaned forward to smell it, reminding Cassandra so much about Jah'ren she almost shouted for him.

Nobody has hurt you, she thought, trying to keep brave although she could feel the old fears nagging her. They are curious. Like him. Soft, strange human.

Knowing she could just open her mouth and scream to have him there again comforted her and made her braver.

The Cook released the braid, stroking the tip of it thoughtfully while speaking softly. Then she touched the fair skin of Cassandra's cheek and looked intensely up into brown, human eyes.

"Patho," Cassandra heard her say as she pointed at her chest.

Then she made a gesture with a hand towards the human, clearly wanting her to say something.

"Uhm," Cassandra said, not certain of what the troll meant.

"Patho," she said once more drumming softly on her chest with her fingertips. "Patho."

Then she motioned to Cassandra again, who finally caught on and forgot she had been told not to speak.

"Oh, I am Cassandra," she said relieved. "Cassandra."

She put a hand to her own chest and heard a gasp of awe go up from the trolls around them. If it was because she did something wrong, because of the name or because of the fact that she had understood and spoken she did not know.

"Kas san dra," Patho mimicked, almost making Cassandra laugh.

Then the cook motioned towards the far end of the camp and within the flow of words that followed Cassandra recognized one word.

"Yes, Jah'ren," she said. "I understand that."

"Jah'ren." Patho said again looking intently at the human.

Cassandra nodded, wondering what she was nodding for, because she had not understood what the troll wanted to say. The cook nodded back, and turned her attention towards the food again.

Another troll from the group around them came forward, again a female. This one was naked from the waist up and Cassandra tried not to look at the swirling patterns of warpaint over her breasts. She suddenly realised why her friend had no shyness or respect for personal boundaries. The female squatted down beside her, encouraged by quiet catcalls from the rest of the young trolls.

Cassandra managed to keep her body from shivering as the troll patted her hair curiously.

"Ka sa dra," she said, pointing a blue finger at Cassandra's face. Then she motioned to herself. "Te'tahn."

"Te'tahn," Cassandra nodded, again getting a hum of awe from the crowd.

In the half hour Jah'ren was gone, Cassandra had learned the names of a dozen trolls, getting gasps of wonder and sometimes waves of laughter when she could not pronounce them.

She had just learned the name of the first male that had dared come close, the females seeming much braver and more interested, when Patho touched her arm and pointed towards the tent.

"Jah'ren," the troll said.

All sound died down throughout the camp and when Cassandra turned around she understood that something was happening.

Jah'ren and the large grey troll he had been arguing with walked into the open space in the middle of the camp. They were both naked but for a loincloth, and the swirling patterns of paint on their bodies made Cassandra cold with fear. She noticed that Jah'ren had painted some of the letters of the alphabet on his arms, mostly upside down or the wrong way around.

He turned and gestured her to come over.

"What is going on?" she asked nervously.

"I fight Katan," he pointed at the other troll.

"What?" Cassandra exclaimed. "Do you have to?"

"Yes."

"But why? The trolls seem nice enough; they have been telling me their names and trying to talk to me."

"Katan son of chief. Not respect Jah'ren. I fight."

"That is what you are fighting for? Respect?"

"No." He suddenly took her head between his hands and looked down into her eyes. "We fight for you."

"For me?" she squeaked, blushing from the way he held her.

"Yes, for Kassandra."

"But why?"

"Katan want Jah'ren's pet. Jah'ren say no. We fight for you."

The large female from earlier, the one carrying the axe, came towards the two fighters. She was holding a couple of curved, crude knives, and Cassandra understood all too well.

"Jah'ren, you can't fight him!" she whispered scared. "He's bigger than you, and there's knives!"

He gave her another stern look.

"Do you want be Katan's pet?"

"No!"

"Then Jah'ren fight."

Cassandra opened her mouth to protest again, but before she could he grabbed her and pulled her to him.

"Listen!" he said, voice filled with something resembling fright for a moment. "Jah'ren lose, you try run, or take dagger… Understand? Die is better. Okey?"

She nodded against his chest, understanding, but not wanting to.

"What happens to you if you lose?" she asked, panicking slightly.

"Jah'ren lose, Jah'ren die."

Clinging to his arms Cassandra looked up at his opponent. Katan was a little taller than Jah'ren, and had arms like treetrunks, not being of the slender kind of troll. He looked more like an orc than a troll she thought, big muscles bulging under the greyish skin. When he saw her watching him he grinned pleased and nodded, obviously sure of himself and already anticipating his victory.

"Jah'ren, please don't fight," Cassandra whispered as he tried to push her away.

She held on to his arms with all the strength she could muster.

"Kass let go. It Okey."

"No, it's not okey. There has to be another way. Don't fight. Please."

He ignored her begging and pried her hands off him. Then he bent down and put his cheek against her.

"Okey," he whispered. "It Okey."

Cassandra fought half-heartedly against a troll who towed her away from the two fighters. She was held firmly by slim, blue arms, and catching a glimpse of the face of her guard she remembered the name of Te'tahn.

Then the song began. At first it was just a rhythm from troll drums, but soon the trolls joined in, shouting and clapping hands against their chests. Cassandra stared at the two trolls in the middle of the circle and the curved knives on the ground between them. Jah'ren stood in his normal relaxed way, but she could read his face well enough to know he was concentrating hard, waiting, studying the enemy.

Katan just stood there grinning, looking like he found the whole affair boring and he could not wait to defeat this annoying opponent and claim his prize.

Don't be so smug, Cassandra thought, trying to comfort herself and knowing what strength there was in the slim troll Katan was expecting to crush. You have not seen him wrestling beasts barehanded because that made everything more fun.

The shouting and drumming reached a crescendo and then, for a split second, it was all very quiet. Katan dived for the knives and the drumming started again, now picking up the rhythm of the way the opponents moved.

Jah'ren had not gone for the knives, but let the other one attack first. He dodged the first assault and then the second one, making Cassandra hold her breath in anticipation.

She had been taught to read his movements through endless training sessions and knew what this pattern meant. He had used it against her more times than she could count.

Dodge, look like you are attacking, then dodge, look uncertain. She almost smiled recognizing the way he deliberately moved his eyes telling the opponent he was looking for an opening and not finding any. Dodge, kick, wear out your enemy, he cannot fight when frustrated. And soon you know the way he moves.

Katan was getting frustrated, but he was also a very skilled fighter, and he had the height, weight and weapons on his side. Jah'ren darted from side to side, moving like a dancer in a strange, rhythmic dance without choreography, long arms hitting and missing, assuring Katan he was in control.

Cassandra was waiting for it, so she could see it coming when suddenly the dance shifted. Jah'ren moved quickly, flowing like water past the big troll and before Katan knew what was happening there was one less knife in his hand. Cassandra exhaled heavily, aware that she had not been breathing in a while. And then she saw Katan spin, faster than she would have thought his size would allow, and the remaining knife cut Jah'ren across the face.

Cassandra closed her eyes, and opening them she saw her friend spitting angrily on the ground, his eyes now aflame with rage.

Katan was grinning madly, but Cassandra knew it would be stupid of him to think he was winning; the fight was still just beginning. She had once seen two male lions fight over a waterhole and this fight reminded her of them. Both trolls were snarling at the other, teeth bared and eyes burning with pure, hot rage.

The grass under their feet soon was trampled and slick with blood. Jah'ren had no deep cuts, but he had managed to stab Katan in the side, a gaping wound that bled good and made the big troll hurrying to finish things. His pain made him unfocused and a wellplaced kick from Jah'ren made his knife fly away into the crowd, where it hit a watching troll in the foot.

Unarmed, Katan was not so sure anymore. His movements became irregular and he was taking risks.

Jah'ren, seeing his opponent struggling, straightened up and threw his own knife into the ground before Cassandra's feet.

She though it was a stupid gesture, but the trolls nodded contently and shouted even more. Then Katan charged. Jah'ren met the attack and grabbed the other troll by the throat with one hand. Their fists pounded on each other and Cassandra moaned when she imagined hearing the crush of bones breaking.

Katan lost his footing a second and Jah'ren's fist hit him straight in the nose. His other hand was still at his opponent's throat, knuckles almost white from the tight grip. Katan's feet scraped wildly over the bloody grass, but found no foothold. Flailing his arms in a last attempt to hurt he lost balance and fell backwards, Jah'ren coming down on top of him, not releasing his grip, not stopping the beating.

In a matter of seconds Katan stopped moving and the female with the large axe, who Cassandra had understood was the tribe's leader, shouted something above the din that made the tribe cry in unison.

Jah'ren stood up, breathing heavily. Te'tahn let Cassandra go and gave her a push in the back, making her stumble out in the circle of flattened grass. When Jah'ren turned to her and smiled she ran across the few meters between them, jumping into the air. Strong arms caught her as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Don't ever, ever, ever do that again," she sniffled into his hair, pressing her cheek to his and smearing blood all over her face in the process.

He was shivering from the exertion of the fight, but she would not let go of him, her arms locked around his neck.

"No. Not again," he moaned. "Kass Jah'ren's pet."

She laughed, squeezing her cheek to his even harder.

"Try calling me that again and see if I kick you somewhere it hurts!" she threatened.

****

Oh, he just wanted to be awfully heroic. He likes it. The next chapter will contain sillyness again.