Betrayal in the Highlands (2 page)

If I get closer, he’ll skewer me!

Edmund took a step closer.

“How did you lose your eye?” the troll asked. He feigned a stab of his spear and, crying out, Edmund hopped back.

Be calm! Buy time! Look for an opening.

“Goblins burnt it out,” Edmund said, conscious of the sweat-soaked patch covering the hole where his eye used to be. “Actually, you, you … you met them a while back. Kravel and Gurding?”

At this, the troll straightened, his expression a mixture of astonishment and trepidation. Edmund shot forward, swinging his notched sword. Recovering from his surprise just in time, the troll blocked Edmund’s blow with the haft of his spear.

Edmund scurried back out of the troll’s long reach.

“Kravel and Gurding?” the troll asked, unnerved. “You’re joking.”

Becky reappeared from the darkness, leaves and thorns sticking in her muddy fur. She snapped at the night air, keeping her distance from the troll.

“Not at all. A … a c-c-c-couple, a couple of years ago they spoke with you about me. Something about a weapon made of a bluish metal, I believe.”

The troll flinched.

“You stutter,” he said, putting together distant memories. “And you have a dog.”

Get him in the knee! If he can’t run, you might be able to get out of here alive.

Edmund lunged again, jabbing at the troll’s elephant-like leg. The troll parried with a swipe of his spear, the force of which nearly wrenched the ringing sword out of Edmund’s hands.

A cloud passed over the bright moon, plunging the valley into deeper darkness.

The roar of the river continued, unabated.

“If you know Kravel and Gurding,” the troll said, stepping back still farther, “tell me this. Which is the smart one?”

Force him into the river. Perhaps he’ll slip on the wet stones.

You’re as good as dead if you stay here. You can’t fight a troll by yourself. You’re just a stuttering fool of a librarian!

“Kravel.” Edmund slid to his left. “Kravel was the smart one. Gurding was just an idiot who did what he was told. But they didn’t have a brain between them.”

The troll withdrew another step, keeping Edmund in front of him.

“What do you mean, ‘didn’t’?”

“I killed them,” Edmund lied.

He sprang forward, the tip of his sword coming within an inch of the troll’s left knee.

Damn! You’re never going to stab him with this tiny sword. You need something bigger.

The troll laughed. “You’re a fine liar. I just spoke to—”

Suddenly something the size of a bat flew through the dimness, sailing just behind the troll’s head and splashing into the river’s foamy current. As the troll spun to see what it was, Edmund drove forward again. This time, his short sword pierced deep into the troll’s enormous thigh. Black blood spurted, sizzling as it hit the damp ground.

Howling, the troll whirled around, his spear connecting with Edmund’s ribs. Edmund flew backward, bouncing to a stop ten feet from where he’d been, while Becky launched herself at the distracted troll and bit his ankle.

Holding his aching ribs, Edmund scrambled to his feet and charged. He was just about to impale the troll through the creature’s unprotected belly when something cold smacked against his temple. He fell sprawling to the ground.

“Sorry!” Pond yelled from the ridge high above them.

On his back, head swimming, Edmund felt blindly for his weapon.

“There’s a reward for you,” the troll said, ignoring Pond’s volley of stones and the growling puppy tugging his leg. “A huge reward!”

Edmund’s fingers wrapped around the mud-covered hilt.

If only I had a lance or—

A longer sword? Your spell! Your spell! Use your spell!

The troll bent over, reaching for Edmund’s throat, and gloated, “You, little fella, are going to make me very, very wealthy!”

Hand trembling, Edmund pointed his sword up at the troll and uttered the incantation his father taught him when he was a child.

“Forstørre nå!”

In a flash, the sword doubled in length, piercing the troll between his eyes and popping out through the back of his skull with a bone-splitting crack.

The troll shuddered then toppled forward, his immense leathery torso crashing down onto Edmund’s face and chest, pinning him to the rocky ground. He screamed for Pond as the troll’s hot blood coursed over him, burning his skin.

Chapter Two

“Sorry about that rock,” Pond said as Edmund began to stir. “It’s dark.”

“Wh-wh … what?” Wheezing, Edmund pushed Becky off his sore chest. “Wh-why … why am I wet?” He tried to sit up but collapsed next to the dead troll, the tip of his enlarged sword still protruding through the back of the creature’s gore-covered skull.

“I threw water on you. Are you okay?”

Becky leapt on him again, licking his dripping face.

“What happened?”

“I hit the troll with a stone and he fell over. Unfortunately, he fell right on top of you. Sorry.”

“You?” Edmund said, his head clearing. “You killed him?”

Pond shrugged. “That, or it was you stabbing him between his eyes that did it. It’s tough to say, really.”

Edmund laughed weakly and pushed Becky off his chest a second time. He propped himself up onto one elbow, inhaling as deeply as his complaining ribs would allow.

“You okay?” Pond asked again.

Edmund raised a pleading finger and winced. He cast his healing spell.

“Smerte av reise.”

The stabbing sensation that radiated from his sternum dulled. His lungs expanded a bit more as he took a deep breath without discomfort. The wheezing faded.

“Better?” Pond handed him a waterskin.

Edmund took a couple of swallows and then poured the rest of the water over his left arm, where some of the troll’s blood still burned. Under the blood, a rash was forming.

“How long was I unconscious?”

“Only a few minutes,” Pond said. “I had a devil of a time getting the beast off of you. Becky was no help. She kept jumping on the damned thing, trying to bite its head off. She actually dug into its neck like a crazy chipmunk or something. I was hoping the troll’s blood would burn her to ashes, but for some reason it didn’t have any effect on her.”

Next to them, with her muzzle and front paws coated in dark blood, Becky barked in triumph.

As if in answer, a horn echoed to the west. Another blared further south.

Pond and Edmund exchanged worried glances.

“They’re almost here,” they said in unison.

Pond lifted Edmund to his feet.

“If you give me a few pointers, I can try to swim. I’ll have to do away with my pack … and my sword … and probably my boots as well …”

They’ll be expecting us to go south along the river in order to reach the closest human settlements. They’ll try to cut us off.

“Have an idea?” Pond asked.

“Yeah, it might buy us some time.”

Or get you killed …

Edmund picked Becky up as she licked the side of his face, her tail thumping against his stomach. “This way. Hurry!”

Staggering as fast as they could manage, they followed the river southward toward the sound of the second horn, leaving footprints in the mud. Then Edmund waded into the cold water, signaling for Pond to follow his example.

“Now head the other direction,” he said. “Quick! Make sure you stick to the water. I don’t want to leave any scent or tracks.”

As the waxing moon sank behind the tree-lined ridges flanking the narrow valley, Edmund and Pond sloshed northward, careful to keep their feet in the rushing river. A mile or so to the south, near where the troll’s body lay, harsh voices cried out. The goblins had found their trail again.

“Do you think they’ll come this way?” Pond asked, toiling through the surging knee-high water.

Edmund stroked Becky’s head, the puppy now fast asleep in his arms like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. She seemed to be purring.

“Maybe,” he said.

They pushed upriver.

“You know,” Pond went on, “perhaps trying to swim would be a good idea. I’m a quick learner!”

“You’ll drown. The river’s too swift.”

“So what are we going to do? Keep heading north? Isn’t that where the Undead King’s tower is?”

“We’re going to hide where they’d least expect it.”

You’d better hope Kravel and Gurding fall for this. They aren’t as stupid as you told that troll.

They’ll think we swam downriver to reach one of the farms or logging camps. They wouldn’t dream we’d head closer to their mountains.

What if you’re wrong?

Then we’ll be dead by morning.

They waded through the icy water, fighting against the swirling currents that urged their tired legs back the way they had come. Pond tripped and fell headlong into the river with a splash that echoed through the forested cliffs. Grabbing his waterlogged pack, Edmund pulled him, spitting and sputtering, to his feet.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Pond said, coughing. “But I … I don’t think I can go on much longer. I need … I need to rest. We haven’t slept, really slept, in … in ages.”

“We’re almost there. We can rest a bit, or die fighting.”

“Let’s hope it’s the first. I don’t think I have the energy to die right now.”

Over the thundering river, faint shouts called from the south. A horn blew. It was much closer than before.

Edmund tried to hasten his pace but couldn’t. He was so exhausted he was barely able to force his feet through the opposing current.

“Where’re we going?” Pond asked, stumbling again.

“There.” Edmund pointed to a rock outcropping high above the valley to their left. Just beyond it, a cave could be seen in the darkness, the same cave in which he had hidden during a thunderstorm two years earlier. “It’s the troll’s lair.”

“Troll’s lair?” Pond repeated doubtfully.

“If you were the goblins, would you waste time looking for us in a troll’s lair?”

“Good point.”

“Plus, it’s out of view.” Edmund made for the bank. “And the ledge in front of the cave is very defendable … just in case I’m wrong about them looking for us there.”

Staggering out of the river, they started climbing the ridge.

After hauling themselves onto the stone ledge high above the valley floor, Edmund and Pond collapsed. Before them gaped the entrance to the troll’s lair, the stench of death billowing out to greet them. Becky, now wide awake and ready for battle, pranced in a circle, yipping with excitement.

“I think you’re right,” Pond said, breathing hard. “This time … this time we’re going to give them the slip. The goblins will never think about looking for us way up here. Plus, if this reek doesn’t cover our scent, nothing will.”

Edmund rubbed his quivering arms. The climb up the nearly perpendicular slope had been arduous, especially with a heavy pack and Becky on his shoulder. If the goblins came, he wouldn’t have the strength to swing a sword.

“Maybe. But I’m afraid that Kravel and Gurding may have been here recently. Right … right before you killed him with your stone, the, the, the troll … the troll said something about talking to them. That, and something about a reward for our capture.”

“
Our
capture?” Pond asked.

“Yeah. Apparently they’re offering a thousand gold pieces for me. And two thousand for you.”

Pond brightened. “Really?”

“No. I’m … I’m sorry. He didn’t say anything about you or … or how much the reward was.”

“Oh.” Pond’s smile faded. “I thought I might have become infamous, given that I stabbed their king and all.”

With an effort, Edmund pushed himself to his feet. He wiped the drying mud from his hands. “I don’t know about infamous, but you’re a hero in my book, should I ever get to write it.”

Becky barked.

“What are we going to do with the little monster here?” Pond watched Becky paw Edmund’s leg. “She’s going to draw attention to us.”

“She’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t see any of the goblins.”

If she does, will you rescue her again? She’s going to get you killed one of these days.

Far to the south, black shapes swarmed into the valley.

“Come on.” Edmund stumbled toward the entrance to the troll’s lair. “We have to get out of sight.”

Hoisting his drenched pack higher onto his shoulders, Pond followed.

“What if the troll didn’t live alone?” he asked.

“Trolls are solitary creatures. Besides, most were killed off in the Great Troll Hunts. The one we ran into must have been one of the last … hopefully.”

Taking care not to fall from the ridge, they crept to the mouth of the cave.

Something glittered at their feet.

Thousands of coins cast about the ledge sparkled in the moonlight.

“Look at this!” Pond began sweeping them up by the handful. “We’re rich!”

“Leave them.” Edmund hobbled into the tunnel. “It’s bait to lure unsuspecting travelers inside. Besides, they’re mostly copper and bronze.”

“Shame. The money would come in handy. Imagine what we could buy if they were all gold!”

“First we’ll need to survive long enough to get to civilization. Come on.” Edmund waved for Pond to follow him. “Get out of view.”

Blindly they staggered deeper and deeper into the heart of the hill, the passage twisting this way and that. Damp darkness and the putrid stench of decaying meat enveloped them. Something that might have been cobwebs brushed against their faces like searching fingers.

Up ahead, water was dripping.

Becky snarled.

“What is it, girl?” Edmund asked.

She shot forward, kicking up a spray of coins.

Somewhere in the blackness, there was a rush of movement.

“Becky!” Edmund called out in hoarse whisper.

Squeals echoed around them.

“Pond, give me the lantern!”

“We don’t have much oil—”

“Give it to me!”

Pond thrust the lantern into Edmund’s hands.

Fumbling for the wick, Edmund cast his fire spell.