Chapter 295: When It Rains …
We caught up with the impatient Mynasha. She looked satisfied that we had followed, and she remained riding out front. I settled Ginger between Tarnasha’s and Glasha’s mounts. “What do you know about the Skull Passage and these trolls and ogres?”
Glasha spoke for the pair in a lecturing tone. “The Caliphate guards all the known entrances to the Endless Dark. The Skull Passage was discovered during …”
I growled irritably. I already knew the orcs guarded their passages and did not need a history lesson at the moment. “Just give me the relevant information so I know what to expect.”
Glasha bristled a bit at my harsh words. She took a breath and began again. “The Skull Passage is in a valley, and is called so because when it was discovered, it had a lot of bleached bones from creatures from the Endless Dark that made it to the surface.” She eyed me, triumphant that she had imparted a bit of her knowledge. I waited for her to continue.
“If my memory serves, the fort garrison there was over two hundred strong with Warlord Ashanti commanding. The mountain trolls frequently come out in singles or pairs but are rarely organized in numbers. The dark ogres are slightly slimmer and darker-skinned than their surface counterparts. What truly differentiates them are their solid-black eyes. For all their stupidity, they have incredible night vision, making them dangerous foes in the dark.”
I thought back to what Hearne had taught me in Hound training. “I know a bit about mountain trolls. They are the largest of all trolls and have an incredible sense of smell for tracking their prey. Although they cannot regenerate severed limbs, they still possess incredible regeneration of the flesh.”
Glasha nodded. “All true. Their strength is also unmatched; they could easily wrestle an ogre into submission. Most likely, they bullied the dark ogres into servitude. You are as good as dead if you are struck by one of their blows. It is believed an unknown dungeon in the Endless Dark is releasing them, as most that come to the surface through the Skull Passage are not as large as would be expected of the species.”
“Unknown dungeon?” Mateo had sneaked close enough to listen in.
Tarnasha turned slightly in his saddle and addressed Mateo. “Some dungeons only have access gates in the Endless Dark. That is why we watch the entrances to the Endless Dark on the surface so intently.”
Glasha added in her scholarly tone, “New dungeons take hundreds of years to create access portals on the surface, but some never do. If these mountain trolls are from a dungeon, it would be an older dungeon due to their size.”
I increasingly did not like this the more it was explained. “How far to the passage?” I asked unenthusiastically.
Glasha seemed to consider where we were for a moment. “Fifty miles. Maybe a touch more. But the trolls and ogres have most likely spread out after defeating the garrison. They might be raiding the countryside.”
Up ahead, Mynasha turned off the main road, following the fading dust trail of the mounted warriors. We followed her lead, and Glasha and Tarnasha’s conversation turned to how they might still reach the Choosing and help Mynasha become a candidate.
I drifted back to the others and advised them of our strategy. “If our charges are threatened, Maveith, Blaze, and Raelia will attack the threat from range. I will stand with Mateo and Benito. You already know what to expect from ogres. Let me tell you about mountain trolls …”
I laid it on heavy about the dangers of facing a mountain troll. The horrific memories of facing a powerful storm giant were in the front of my mind. I didn’t want anyone getting foolishly brave and charging one—namely Mateo. If we did encounter a troll, I would be happy to make it brainless rather than risk anyone’s life.
In the evening, we began to encounter fleeing orc civilians. Most were carrying very little. The clerics stopped to talk to a few of the people and found one who had worked in the fort at Skull Passage. The news could have been better.
“I was sleeping in one of the towers ’cause I was doing work there. I heard the first ogre bellow in pain in the distance, triggering one of the defenses. The garrison quickly mobilized to the walls, and our cleric lit up the night sky.” He shivered at the memory. “Three dozen or more of the foul ogres were crossing the defenses. Monstrous trolls were shepherding them forward from behind.”
“How many trolls?” Mynasha asked calmly.
“I didn’t count, but half the number of ogres would be my guess. I watched the fight until the first troll reached and climbed the eastern wall. I climbed down the lift I was using to bring stone up the tower I was repairing and ran.” Mynasha showed concern at the numbers.
“Are you sure it was that many trolls?” Glasha interjected, also concerned.
“Yes, honored cleric. Like I said, I didn’t count, but there were more than twelve.” Glasha dismissed him, and he limped to catch up with the group.
Tarnasha furrowed his brow, clearly skeptical. “Sounds too fantastical to be true. A dozen mountain trolls? If it is true, we would be fools not to wait for at least half that number of warlords and their men.”
Both Glasha and Mynasha exchanged tense looks. Waiting meant the Choosing would be well underway by the time we arrived—perhaps even decided. To my surprise, Mynasha stepped forward and took control. “We proceed, but with caution. Given time, I can handle six mountain trolls.”
Tarnasha, the old cleric, let out a deep, rolling laugh. “Child, you are powerful, yes—but six or twelve, a pack of mountain trolls is an army by itself. There’s no shame in delaying. No loss of honor in accepting that the seat of the Supreme is already lost.”
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“We can still approach carefully,” Glasha interjected, more thoughtful than defiant. “We’re mounted—we could outrun them if needed. Besides, those warriors who passed us on the road probably weren’t the only ones summoned. Reinforcements may be moving behind us.”
I wasn’t thrilled. Everything I had ever heard about mountain trolls suggested they were solitary brutes. If a dozen had gathered, something was deeply wrong. Hearne once said that facing two that were not actively copulating meant Fortuna herself had cursed you.
“I’ll ride ahead and scout every few miles,” Glasha said at last, her voice firm. “If they’re out there, I’ll make sure we’re not caught unaware.”
We continued along the side road, and before long, the last of the fleeing civilians vanished behind us. The silence settled in with the dusk, heavy and creeping. Facing dark ogres or mountain trolls at night would be close to suicide.
Fortunately, I didn’t need to raise my concern, as Glasha had already anticipated it. During one of our pauses for her to scout, she returned and pointed northward. “There’s a defensible cave about half a mile through the trees. Big enough for the horses.”
We followed her through the thinning woods and came upon it—not quite a cave, more an overhang at the base of a small cliff, sheltered by a massive stone slab that jutted outward like a natural awning. Sparse tree cover gave us a clear thirty-yard perimeter in all directions. Rocky shale littered the ground in front, slippery underfoot. The space was generous, nearly forty feet across, twenty feet deep, and tall enough for the horses to stand comfortably inside.
I gave orders to my company. “Maveith, Raelia—sweep the area for tracks. Blaze, Mateo, Benito—water the horses, then get them secured in the shelter. No fires tonight. Don’t even use the thermal stone,” I said. “Mountain trolls have a sense of smell sharp enough to smell blood over a mile away.”
The group scattered with practiced efficiency. As they worked, I stepped deeper into the cave, placing my palm to the stone and pulsing earth speak. The stone echoed back the images as I searched for any unwelcome surprises.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to find a stash of rusty weapons behind a loose rock. This world had a millennia of rich history. I wiggled the rock, moss having grown in the seams over time, making it snug. Tarnasha watched me curiously, and when I freed and dropped the stone, he approached.
I pulled out the blades one at a time, each coated with rust. “Glasha, come look at these,” Tarnasha called over to the Chronicler. She had been discussing something with Mynasha but joined us. In the end, there were ten long swords that had been secreted away.
“None of them are runic in nature,” I said disappointedly. “Does your lore spell work on non-artificed items?” I asked, handing the last blade extracted to Glasha. She nodded and began studying the blade before focusing inward on her spell.
She eventually leaned the blade against the wall. “They were made in secret by a smith. They were plotting to kill the warlord who ruled over their town. It was some five hundred years ago, and the town no longer exists. It was called Clearmoor.” She indicated the forest, “Those woodlands used to be pastures.”
“Your gift never fails to amaze me,” Tarnasha stated reverently.
Glasha smiled. “Well, I only get flashes of the object’s life and purpose. I saw lots of sheep, and I remembered from old maps that this area used to be Clearmoor, a town that raised sheep for wool.”
“Still impressive,” I said. “These are worthless. The quality isn’t great, and the metal is too far gone.” I put the swords back in the alcove but didn’t waste effort moving the stone back.
When they returned, I helped Benito and Blaze with the horses. Blaze whispered, “I don’t like it. It’s too quiet by the stream. Even Benito was spooked.” Benito was usually blissfully ignorant of most things—especially danger—until it was right on top of him.
“Let’s wait for Raelia and Maveith to return,” I said, nodding. It wasn’t long before they did.
Raelia reported somberly, “Ogre tracks over half a mile south by the stream. Dried blood on the rocks nearby but less than a day old.”
“Direction of travel?” I asked, alarmed. If there was an injured ogre, maybe one of the trolls would be following it.
“We tracked it a quarter mile heading away from us.” Maveith tried to whisper, but still, his voice traveled in the acoustics of the shallow cave. “The tracks were at least half a day old, so we returned.”
“We now know at least one of the ogres from Skull Passage reached this far.” I turned to Glasha. “How far is it to Skull Passage from here, and when did the trolls attack?”
“The attack was two nights ago, and the passage is about twenty miles from here,” she replied, joining my group. “Did they find anything?”
“Ogre tracks,” I replied.
Glasha seemed to consider. “We should tie one the horses out among the trees. That way, if the …”
“No,” I snapped at her. I wanted to add that we could tie her out there instead but held back. “I will sleep now and take the watch the rest of the night.” Glasha nodded in acceptance and returned to talking with the others.
As night settled over the woods, I struggled to find comfort in sleep, drifting in and out in restless intervals. Eventually, I rose to my feet, the cool, damp air wrapping around me, and told Maveith and Raelia to rest, relieving their watch. A light drizzle was falling outside our cave, creating a fine mist that hung in the air. I hoped the precipitation would work to our advantage, cloaking our presence and masking our scent trail.
I channeled aether to my eyes and periodically used the spyglass. There was not the usual amount of night activity in these woods, another bad sign. One thing was always certain: the smaller animals always knew when to hide.
The drizzle turned into a light rain, and the saturated ground muted my earth speak pulses. At least I still had my night vision. I caught movement in the distance and tracked a deer running at full sprint. From the direction it was running, I had a good guess of what was chasing it. Still, it was over one hundred yards away, meaning that whatever was chasing it wouldn’t see us. I waited to rouse the others until I knew for sure.
It was faint, but I could feel the ground tremble—or maybe it was my earth pulses picking up the tremors. Not one, but two ogres plodded along after the deer they would never catch. I sighed in relief as their strides did not slow, and they disappeared to my right. My relief was short-lived, as a lanky giant followed with long strides. I couldn’t see the upper torso through the foliage, but I knew this had to be a mountain troll. I prayed to Fortuna under my breath that the troll would continue after the ogres, but when it reached the path we had used to get to the cave, it stopped.
With my spyglass I could see it turning; I guessed it was sniffing the air. I leaned over to wake Maveith but noticed he was already sitting up. “Troll,” I whispered. “Wake the others.”
At least the ogres were chasing the deer. Fortuna cursed me, as the troll emitted a long, loud howl, and the rain seemed to stop for a heartbeat. Fuck, it was calling the ogres back. “Everyone up now!” I hissed. I just hoped it was not calling its troll friends as well.
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