The Toll (28 page)

“
So, uhm, Ottie, dear, I
was just telling Daphedaenya about the baking auction for the
festival. I thought maybe you would like to have a go at it too,”
she prompted, her round apple cheeks dimpling up as she waited for
her new daughter-in-law to reply.

Otvla wrinkled her nose and shook her
head. “I’m too busy,” flicking her wrist, she waved her hand around
airily, “with the baby coming and everything,” glancing at me, she
smiled slyly in my direction, patting her stomach lovingly, “I just
haven’t the time.”

“
She has the time,” Trystan
cut in, placing his bowl in the rinse bucket before he walked to
the door, pulling his hat and coat off the peg.

“
I do not!”

“
You do,” he said easily,
avoiding her red-faced gaze, “she’s not much good at it, though.
You could help her, can’t you, Mama?”

Natty nodded eagerly, trying to make
sure she didn’t look too eager, fearing she might hurt Otvla’s
feelings.

“
Trystan! You can’t
just...” Otvla burst out.

Marching back, my
brother-in-law
—wow, that’s so odd to even
think—
came over and bent forward on the
table, leaning in close.

Otvla’s eyes widened and she shut her
mouth with an audible snap, the black look her husband was giving
her stopping any further interruptions dead in their
tracks.

Mamma and Papa were surprisingly quiet
during the exchange.

Curious, I peeked at them
to find them purposefully ignoring the couple, as if their food was
the most interesting thing in the world.
Wow. They didn’t step in to coddle their little Otvla? Their
baby?

Hmmm. Interesting,
indeed.
Had to admit, I was somewhat
impressed.

“
Mama is going to help you
learn to cook proper, wife,” Trystan ground out, at his wit’s end.
“Isn’t that nice?” Lips thin, pulled tight at the corners, he
nodded his head slowly, encouraging her to do so, as well, waiting
until she did before he stood up and turned away.

Coming back after a brief pause, he
walked over and gave Natty a quick kiss on the cheek before he went
to leave. “Thank you, Mama,” he whispered.

“
Of course, sweetheart,”
she whispered back, patting his cheek.

He grinned and stood up, his smile
faltering as he glanced at his wife. “Say thank you to Mother,
Otvalena.” When she didn’t respond soon enough for his liking, he
gestured towards her.

Still silent, she bit her lip. I knew
that look, all too well, and subtly kicked her under the table. She
was debating on whether it would be worth it or not to defy him.
Knowing Trystan as I did too, I knew he wasn’t in the
mood.

My younger sibling yelped and jumped,
peering around the table as she stood up and gripped her
shin.

“
Someone kicked me!”
Pouting petulantly, her eyes turned to me accusingly, but I just
watched her with wide, innocent eyes.

Mumbling a protest, she kept eyeing
everyone through the corner of her eye as she alternately fought
between a glare, aimed in my direction, and an irritating pout,
waiting for someone to come to her rescue.

“
Must’ve been an accident,”
Berthold offered, his eyes going back and forth between
us.

Otvla opened her mouth, but then
immediately closed it, shrinking a little when Trystan cracked his
knuckles a little too loud, her shoulders slumping when he subtly
shook his head, mouthing something I couldn’t quite make
out.

“
Yes,” she mumbled,
“must’ve been,” shocking me as all the fight in her went out, like
trapped air escaping rapidly.

My eyes lifted to Trystan’s
questioningly, but he turned away quickly, his face reddening like
a beet.

“
And, uh, thank you, Mama
Natty,” Otvla grumbled softly, making sure it was sweet enough to
sound sincere, and loud enough for her irritated husband to
overhear. Biting her lip, she eyed the back of him worriedly, and
it had me wondering what he’d threatened her with.

Would he withhold money?
Maybe. Add more chores she wouldn’t do anyways? No. How would that
work as a threat?

Hmm.

Not caring enough to really
think it through, I shrugged mentally.
Well, whatever it is, it worked, and for Otvla that’s saying
something.

Satisfied, he gave a slight nod, his
back still to us, and mumbled a few hasty good-byes before he
hurried off.

“
I’d like to see him go
without for a week and see how quick he is to do as I say,” Otvla
grumbled under her breath, glaring at the door as it shut behind
him.

As everyone finished eating, Mamma and
Natty wandered off to walk to the village, and Papa and Berthold
went to go peek at Trystan’s calf. That just left me and sister
dearest, sitting idly at the table.

Blushing hard, she turned to me and
blurted, “He refuses to touch me.”

Not expecting that little slip, I
blinked, and it took a moment to let that sink in.

“
Not since you came back,”
she groused, as if this was all somehow my fault, “and he says, now
that he knows I hate it when he withholds, he threatens to make me
go without! He won’t bed me, he says, if I don’t learn to
obey.
Obey!
Like
a dog!”

Which explains why she’d assumed he
was getting what he needed from me.

Not willing to touch that subject,
ever, I got up and rinsed my cup out. “Your marriage is none of
my-”

“
Well, isn’t it?” she cut
in. “Everything was just fine until you came back. We were all just
fine, and I was...”

Letting out a shocked breath, I
whirled around and slapped her, reacting impulsively as her words
cut me, slicing right through me like a hot knife. The sound of my
hand cracking across her cheek led to a very long and deafening
silence, stark against the noise trickling in from
outside.

All the anger I’d subconsciously
harbored for her, the resentment for her part in my situation these
last six months, and for all those things I’d shrugged off before,
burst forth, as if the dam had been broken.

Shocked, she hopped up and cupped her
cheek, stunned, her large hazel eyes welling up as she just stared
at me, shocked.

“
You... you hit me.” Her
fingers ran across the red hand print welting up across her face,
as if she couldn’t believe it.

I couldn’t either, when I’d thought on
it later, but at this moment, I’d found it well deserved, a long
time coming, even.

“
Everything was
not
fine while I was
gone!” I bellowed, rattling the cupboards just overhead.
“
I
was not
fine!
Everything
was
not
fine!” My chest heaved as we both just stood there, at an
impasse, my lungs pumping like a bellows, trying to suck in air I
didn’t feel like I was getting, as my fists clenched reflexively at
my sides. Without another word, I walked to the wall peg as calmly
as possible, my mind swirling with emotions, and picked up my
cape.

“
Where... where are you
going?” Otvla whispered uncertainly, a slightly dazed look on her
face. Her hand was still cupping her face in disbelief, as if she
truly couldn’t believe it.

No one had ever put a hand to her
before. She looked lost.

I didn’t feel an ounce of
remorse.

“
I need air,” was all I
said, taking off as my cape swirled around me.

****

Laying in a field full of late
blooming wild flowers and milkweed, I closed my eyes and caved to
temptation.

“
Come on. Come on,” I
muttered, shutting my eyes tighter, scrunching my face up in
concentration.

Focusing, I tried to picture Troll,
tried to push the image into my mind, making it a reality.
Determined, I kept up, thinking of different ways to summon him,
completely clueless as to how it all worked.

“
It can’t be that hard,” I
huffed, “the bastard tries it all the time. Why can’t I summon up
one little puny meeting, huh?” Growling under my breath, I slapped
the ground angrily with my fists. “Is that too much to ask?” I
guess it was, as I impatiently kept trying, this horribly battering
need for him I felt deep in soul, riding me hard to be near him,
see him, touch him—
anything!
—beat at me. But nothing
happened.

It was maddening and depressing,
driving me to distraction above all else, and I eventually fell
asleep pondering and cursing my conundrum, curling up with my cape
in the middle of an open field as sleep overtook me.

****

The moment I glanced around, I knew I
was dreaming, and even then I sought him out.

Troll! Troll!
My mind bellowed, calling out to him.

His answer came sooner than I’d
thought, much sooner, yanking me towards him with the harsh tug of
an invisible force that had me shooting from my own dreamscape,
through a veil of hazy fog, and smack dab into his.

“
Oomph!” Yelping, I landed
with a harsh thud, skidding along a surprisingly warm slab of red
earth.

Peeking around, I noticed I was in a
cave of some sort, strange little lights, more like glowing balls
of blue and orangish red magical flames, suspended above nothing
and held by nothing, guiding the way.

My fingers traced along all
the funny markings scratched into the red dirt walls, turning into
deep scratches and gouges, then holes the size of my head.
Or maybe a troll-sized fist
, I corrected.

A loud, pain filled groan caught my
ears and I felt the hairs on the back of neck standing on end.
There was a harsh mutter, followed by a grumbling curse, and I
recognized the tone and voice immediately. Strange, cube-shaped
spaces were carved into the walls, creating large, spacious
cubbies, the farther I traveled down the dark, low lit
corridors.

My fingers skimmed too close to one of
the openings and I jerked back as I felt a surprising tingle course
through me.

“
Magic,” I whispered,
jerking my hand back as something from within one of the magical
barriers charged at it, as if it was dead bent on getting at
me.

Eyes widening, I gasped and stumbled
back as the creature slammed into it and immediately bounced back,
my hand clutching at my chest through my dress when I realized I
was still alive, willing my wildly beating heart to
still.

It was trapped, the snarling, raging
beast ramming at it, trying to get a look at it like trying to
squint at someone clearly through a thick, soup-like fog, whatever
that shimmering shield consisted of, keeping it from getting to me,
and me from seeing it, as well.

A loud guttural moan, more
pain than anything, rent the air, and I popped up, hastening
towards it, a new kind of fear enveloping me.
Troll! He’s hurt!

My pace picked up as I sped towards
the back, disregarding all the other howling, lost sounding souls,
heading for the one that tugged at me, my stomach turning
sickeningly.

I still couldn’t wrap my mind around
everything, and there was so much left unexplained as of yet, but
my protective instincts for him, only god knows why, reared up, and
I reacted without another thought. Farther and farther I went, a
long stream of empty prisons lining the wall, the less polished the
corridors became.

When I finally reached his cell, as
the crudely shaped boxed spaces would seem to me, I stopped dead in
my tracks as he snarled warningly, hunched over in a corner, hands
cupped over his head as he howled pitifully.

“
Be gone!” he growled,
tossing his arm back to ward others off, shifting back and forth in
his corner, his naked back exposed to me, the loin cloth covering
his genitals the only bit of covering he had on. “I dinna want ta
be bothered, so git!”

Entire body trembling, I swallowed
hard, tentatively stretching my hand out across the expanse that
separated us, feeling farther away than ever, as if the short
distance was actually miles, he felt so out of reach to me. My
hands shook as they extended, tremulous. I’d never heard him so
angry before, or so sad. It tore at my wildly beating chest, and I
slowly made my way into his space.

My boot scuffed on the ground as I
slowly slipped through the tingling fog, and Troll immediately
stopped mumbling to himself, large head shooting up as he got on
all fours and shot around, roaring at his would-be
intruder.

Though shocked beyond my
wits, I held firm, but squeezed my eyes shut, stupidly, or
bravely—
however you chose to see
it—
knowing I wouldn’t have the time to get
out of his range, or defend myself against his strength, when he
attacked.

Tensing, my hands shot up and I
shifted back, slamming into a wall as I tripped on the hem of my
own dress, launching me backwards.