The Toll (16 page)

“
Please say
something.”

Balling my hands into fists, I turned,
careful not to acknowledge him, and started stomping back towards
the house.

“
Daphie...”

“
You’re a bastard.” I
didn’t look to see his reaction, though I was sorely
tempted.

From behind me, he exhaled sharply, as
if he’d just been kicked by a mule.

Good.

“
Could you… could you say
something else?” his voice quavered a little, as if he was reaching
deep down for the guts to talk to me.

“
I hate you?” I offered. I
still didn’t spare him a glance, he didn’t deserve it.

“
But you loved me once...”
I could hear his footsteps almost directly behind me, heavy but
hesitant, unsure of their welcome.

“
So did you,” I reminded
him, “and then I gave my life in exchange for yours, and you took
my love, smashed it, and married my sister. Oh, who is now having
your child!” I didn’t look back as I kept my eyes straight ahead,
walking briskly towards the house.

“
Won’t you let me have my
say?” he called to my retreating back.

“
I hope you didn’t trouble
yourself, coming out here just to say that. I can assure you,
you’ll be sorely disappointed.”

“
Ottie, uh, Otvla wanted to
come have dinner with you.”

Snorting contemptuously, I laughed and
shook my head. “No, she didn’t. She came to rub it in.” To
gloat.

“
I still love you, Daphie.”
The desperation in his voice didn’t tug at me, not a wit, and I
felt no remorse, no compunction whatsoever as I rounded the house
and marched determinedly inside.

Otvla and Mamma were seated together
at the table, their heads close together as they tittered over baby
clothes and tiny little pink and blue blankets and booties, hushing
upon my sudden entry.

Looking straight ahead, I barely
spared them a glance as I went to the basin to wash up before
dinner.

Papa and Trystan came in, talking
about livestock as I finished up and helped Mamma set the
table.

A flash of red caught my eye and I
glanced up to see a rather large, shiny ruby dangling between
Otvla’s very petite breasts, nestled between the low cut ‘v’ of her
dress.

With shaking hands, I set my plate
down and just stared at it.

“
How do you have that?” I
demanded, the supposed family heirloom, the one that Troll had said
was paste and then bitten into itty bitty pieces to prove his
point, was right before my eyes, nestled in between my sister’s
miniscule bosom, mocking me.

My eyes went to Mamma and Papa’s, and
I had my answer.

What little was left of my heart and
subsequently me, who I’d always thought of myself as, broke when
Mamma’s face reddened and Papa’s paled. Neither one of them could
meet my eyes.

Blinking rapidly, throat tight, chest
even tighter, I stumbled backwards, knocking a stack of plates
over, ignoring the crunch of them under my booted feet as I waded
through them blindly.

“
You knew.” It wasn’t an
accusation, it was the truth, plain and simple.
They’d known.
Hell, they’d done
it!
They’d tricked me and handed me over
to a troll!
My own family...
“How could you?”

Trystan’s puzzled gaze went around the
room, frowning, disconcerted.

Otvla must have been told,
the look on her face as she fingered her ruby necklace gingerly,
covetously, the
real
ruby necklace, saying it all and then some, better than any
words she could have possibly uttered.

“
I don’t know what I was
thinking,” I pushed past everyone, shaking my head wildly, “I’m so
stupid.”

Storming in, I entered my old room and
didn’t waste any time.

Emptying out the case Mamma
made to hold my pillow, I dumped the old lumpy pillow, made from
all of my old dresses as stuffing and shaped into a funny
rectangle, out onto my bed, my
old
bed, dumping out all of my belongings from my
small dresser as I started to fill it.

“
What are you
doing?”

I didn’t answer my father as I hefted
my filled sack over my shoulder and walked silently, determinedly,
from the room.

“
Daphedaenya?” Trystan
tried to step in front of me, blocking my exit.

“
Get out of my way or I’ll
show your new wife how well you scream like a little
girl.”

Trystan’s jaw dropped and Otvla
stormed over to us.

“
You can’t talk to him like
that!” She puffed up her chest importantly and gave me what she
must have thought was a scathing glance.

Matching her glare for glare, I was
unmoved. She looked ridiculous.

I would have laughed in her
face if I was a lesser person.
I’ve been
living with a troll for the past six months. A living, breathing,
seething troll. Is she serious?

“
Of course I can!” I
shouted, feeling slightly mollified when she squeaked like a
frightened little mouse and ducked behind her huge husband. “I can
say whatever I want to the little pisser! I gave my life up for
him!”

“
You what?” Mamma and Papa
chorused.

“
Daphie… Daphie-girl…”
Trystan twisted his hat in his hands, mangling it beyond use, those
brown eyes I’d once loved so much looking large and pleading,
“Please, don’t go. We can talk about this. Just tell
me…”

“
Don’t you Daphie me, you
weak hearted….
Ninna-witty!
” I spluttered, my lips
running away with my tongue, blurting it right out there. I had no
idea if that was even a real word, madder than I’d ever thought
possible, but it sounded good enough to me, so I went with it.
“Your Daphie-girl is gone!” I bellowed, shaking a pointed finger at
him, uncaring if the entire village heard. “How long did you wait,
I wonder, before you married my sister? A week? A day? A month?
Hmm?”

The silence that swept over the room
at that was beyond telling, just as telling as Trystan’s red face.
“You know what? Bollocks! Bollocks on all of it!”

If mouths gaped open slightly at my
newly acquired dirty mouth, I pretended I didn’t notice.

“
I don’t care!” I tossed my
hands up. “This is all just a great big farce, anyways! Right?
Well, I’ll have the last say, and I say
bollocks!
Bollocks with you all!”
Arms tucked in, I stuck my elbows out and pushed my way through,
Trystan’s grunt of pain as he went tumbling back music to my
ears.

In the back of my mind,
past the anger and the hurt, I hoped like hell I’d said and used
that right—
bollocks.
Not one for using such dirty words, I’d heard Troll say it so
many times, and it sounded positively horrible to
me—
bollocks this and bollocks on
that.
I don’t know, I was just so mad and
it just sort of
… popped out.

Not very lady like, but I’m not overly
worried about that anymore.

I’ll always be seen as
unclean, as Mamma says
—unmarriageable—dirty—
so, hah, on
that! I can say whatever I want.

Truth be told, it had felt good,
really good, a little exhilarating being a little bad. I almost
felt like saying it again, among a few other choice words I’d only
dared myself to think, let alone utter aloud, just to do
it.

“
Daphedaenya?!”

Pausing only for a moment, I stopped
at the edge of the cobbled steps, right before they ended and the
dirt road began.

Head turning ever so slowly, I spared
the two men I’d once thought I’d loved, and loved me in return, a
glance, the special women in their lives huddled quietly behind
them.

“
Where are you going?
What’s going on with the jewels? What happened? Please, won’t you
come back inside and talk? It’s getting pitched black out. It’s not
safe for you.” Trystan couldn’t speak fast enough, blurting it all
out in a worried rush.

Not safe for
me?
Me?
The woman who’s been playing house with a
perpetually pissy troll with a chip on his shoulder?
Hah!

How lovely.
The scowl on my face accompanied that thought.
Oh,
now
he cares?
I thought snidely, the look I gave him nothing short of
scathing.

“
You don’t understand,
Daphie, I… We… I never thought… I didn’t…” Papa was scrambling at
what to say.

“
How did she give her life
for you, Trys?” Otvla demanded. “She took my place. That had
nothing to do with you.
I’m
the one carrying your babe,
me,
not her, how did she give her
life, hmmm?”

Eyes filling, Trystan’s face crumpled,
staring mournfully after me. “She traded my life in exchange for
hers so the troll wouldn’t kill me.”

“
What did you do?” Papa
growled, distracted at that bit of news.

“
I… I tried to kill it, to
save her.”

“
You what?!!” Papa
roared.

“
Trystan!” Otvla
hissed.

“
Nathem, no! Oh!” Mamma
shouted.

By this point I couldn’t make out
their voices any more as they all started shouting at each other,
the cacophony of their noise slowly fading, along with some
scuffling and grunting, as I trooped off down the road, the glowing
stone I pulled out of my pocket lighting the way.

Take me back, I thought, clutching the
stone tight.

Bridging The Gap

Slumped and dejected, I sat between
two wooden planks of dubious stability, my feet dangling over the
side as I stared down at the rushing river water dashing about,
hurdling and churning as it sped by, so low beneath my
feet.

Every so often some of the water would
splash my exposed skin, but I left it, watching as it eventually
rolled down like little teardrops, tumbling right back into the
river.

“
A toll,” that deep voice I
know so well grumbled. I was surprised it had taken him so long,
I’d been sitting here for the better part of an hour.

“
You’re getting slow in
your dotage,” I mumbled, not bothering to look up.

The sack containing all of my worldly
belongings rustled next to me as I started swinging my feet back
and forth, causing it to slide down my side a little more as it
leaned heavily against me.

“
Nugget?” The confusion in
his voice was almost hilarious.

I was sure, if I’d looked, I would
have found a look of supreme befuddlement to complement.

Thrusting my wrist up, I held up my
hand and waved it, motioning for him to take what I was
offering.

Slowly reaching forward, he took it,
the wood of the old rickety bridge protesting his solid, heavy
weight.

“
What’s this about,
then?”

Muffling a small sob, I shrugged.
“It’s my toll.” Carefully, I slowly wiped the tears drifting down
my cheeks before the river could have them, sniffling as I wrapped
my arms around myself in a comfortless hug.

“
Tis a
stockin’.”

Lips trembling, though I pinched them
tight, I sniffled again and swiped at my eyes once more, using my
dry sleeve. “Yup.”

“
A stockin’?”

“
Uh-huh.”

Now that’s one I hadn’t
heard from him in a while—
incredulity.
How fun, he’s running
the gamut in the emotions department today.
Yippee.

Guess that makes two of
us.

“
A stockin’, nugget, fer a
fee?”

A smart one, isn’t
he?

With a heavy sigh, I leaned my
forehead carefully onto one of the shaking railings. It made a
weird crunching noise, as if something inside of it was weakening
and might, at some point, any moment now, give.

Maybe it will break and
I’ll fall, tumbling into the icy depths, never to be seen or heard
from again as the river carries me off.

I snorted at the path my
dark thoughts had taken, peeking down once more to stare off after
the rushing water below.
But it won’t, and
I won’t.

No. Life is never really
that kind. Not to me.

“
Nugget?”

Shaking my head from my musings, I
glanced up at him.

A small smile kicked up the corners of
my lips at the truly perplexed look on his face.

“
The stockin’?” He waved
the balled up bit I’d handed him, his neck craning, peering over a
little to see that I was minus one, my pale legs exposed as my
hiked up dress ballooned around me, making room so I could sit with
my feet between the questionable piece of wood they were sectioned
off between, straddling it, one on either side.