Read The Toll Online

Authors: Jeanette Lynn

Tags: #romance, #love, #adult, #fantasy, #paranormal, #magic, #dark fantasy, #trolls, #bbw, #curvaceous women

The Toll (10 page)

BOOK: The Toll
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Please,” I begged. “Please
don’t.”

Eyes flashing, he snarled in my face,
the smell of ale and something else wafting across. Something not
entirely unpleasant, but strong. Maybe cinnamon.

My limbs started shaking, and he
stopped snarling, blowing his warm breath once more across my face
as he let out a slow, even breath. Eyes narrowing, he glanced down,
realizing where his fist now settled, sandwiched between two rather
large mounds, pressed up against my heart.

Releasing me quickly, he shoved me
back. “Dinna flatter yerself, nugget,” he grunted, “I willna be
rollin’ ‘round in the mud wit’ the pigs. Wouldna be messin’ wit’
the crusty likes of ye.”

Turning around so he couldn’t see the
look on my face, I had no choice but to expose my bared back to
him, slipping the voluminous bit of white material he’d offered
over my head. Smoothing it out, I gave it an experimental sniff,
somewhat mollified when it didn’t smell like a dirty, week old
stocking.

Efficiently covered, I slipped off the
rest of my underthings and gathered them all into a pile beside me.
Shifting about restlessly, I still felt naked and exposed,
supremely vulnerable. My feet were bare against the cool metal
floor of the cage and I curled my toes at the
discomfort.


Come,” he ordered, showing
up moments later, opening the door barring me in.

Cautious, I stepped out tentatively,
ducking quickly under his outstretched arm, not wanting to follow,
yet unwilling to find out what he’d do to me if I
didn’t.


Take those wit’ ya.” He
motioned to my mound of wet clothing, and I scooped them up,
docilely trailing behind. “Ye’ll be cleanin’ up yer boot mess on
tha wall first, then yer clothes.” Gesturing about as he talked, he
walked me through what he wanted me to do after that, in great
detail, and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into
despair.
Is this to be my life now? A
troll’s slave?


How... how long did Otvla
have to work off?” I queried cautiously. “How much was her toll to
pay?”

Pausing, but only briefly, he spared
me a quick glance from over his shoulder before he started rifling
through a musty old trunk full of moth eaten garments. “One summer,
if she did as I’d asked, but it’d be two for ye, hers plus yers,
seein’ as that’s fittin’ an’ fair ta me.”


Two seasons!” I shouted.
“I can’t be your indentured servant for two seasons! That’s
ridiculous! What did she do? And what did
I
do, for that matter, to earn my
own season?”


Ye canna go back on it
now. A deal is a deal, nugget, an’ that’s that.”


Explain!” I cried. My
chest started heaving and it felt as if the walls of the cave were
closing in on me, squeezing me, surrounding me, boxing me in,
constricting me tight.

Biting my lip, I stumbled back into
the wall behind me, a whimper escaping my lips. It was almost as
bad as when he’d choked me, this suffocating sensation, but this
time the pain was inward and slowly creeping its way out, eating at
me from the inside out.


I dinna have ta. Ye be
knowin’, anyway. Trespassin’ an’ all tha’, see? Ye agreed ta me
terms, an’ they’re reasonable enough.”


Trespassing? That’s shit!
And reasonable to who? You?” I bellowed, tossing my wet clothes at
him before I took off, scrambling towards the wall that kept me
away from my freedom and the outside world. Frantic and panicked, I
clawed at it when I reached it, digging my nails in as I tried,
fruitlessly, to dig my way through. Unrelenting, unwilling to just
give up like that, I kept at it, even as my nails broke and my
knuckles bloodied, leaving behind small gouges dotted with
crimson.


Ye done yet?” Troll called
from behind me. “There’s work ta be done an’ I aint got all
day.”

Heaving with the effort to
keep myself upright, I crumpled to the floor, noticing my wet
clothes as they were plopped down right beside me. Oddly enough, my
cape was in the wet, messy pile too.
Had
he found it? And if so, why? What am I saying? Who
cares!

My shoulders shook as I stared at
them, tears silently slipping down my cheeks.


I know what ye’re
thinkin’,” he grumbled as he wandered off, “an’ it willna be
workin’, ye hear. If ye run I’ll find ye. Willna be likin’ the
consequences.”

Blinking to clear my vision, I
shivered at the intended threat, wiping at my face, smearing tears
and the blood from my knuckles in my haste.


Any day now, nugget!”
Troll bellowed from somewhere deeper inside the cave.

On wobbly limbs, I got up
slowly and found a small cloth, bar of soap, and metal bucket of
water, meant for me to scrub with. Forcing back a sob, I made my
way over to the mud my boot had left behind on his wall.
First sharp object I come across,
I promised myself,
and
I’m stabbing him in the thigh, consequences be damned.

It was a long and grueling day after
that, full of mindless, numbing chores I had no choice but to do,
and I fell asleep atop a pile of unwashed linen on the dirty,
unkempt floor, falling down right there as exhaustion overtook me.
My hands stung, nails throbbing and broken, burning from using
them, damaged as they were, working tirelessly for the troll
tyrant.

Groaning, calling it quits,
I face planted into a smelly old shirt, praying the fumes it
produced would suffocate me in my sleep.
I
never did find my sharp object,
I thought
as I fell blissfully asleep, my stomach empty and aching, mouth
parched and dry, body battered and bruised.
Ah, well
, I thought, thinking of
finding a blunt object sharp enough to at least poke his eye out if
nothing sharp ever becomes available.
Well, Daphedaenya, there’s always tomorrow.

And the day after that… and after
that… and after…

 

 

Troll Brokering

 

I awoke to the scraping sound of boots
shuffling, a scuffling sort of noise, followed by a harsh curse and
a whispered shout.


Daphie?
Daphie?”

Groggy but coherent, I shot
up at the familiar voice.
Trystan?
That definitely woke me up.
Trystan!

Running into the main room by the
entrance, I shoved a finger to my lips to silence him, letting him
envelop me in his arms. He was warm and welcome,
familiar.

It was night and the entrance was once
again opened, the wall mysteriously gone. I didn’t question it
right then, I was too happy.


It’s true, then?” he
whispered. “You sold yourself to a troll? Oh, Daphie-girl, how
could you?”


No, I didn’t,” I tried
desperately to explain. “He tricked me!” Holding on for dear life,
I gripped his shirt as he pulled back to stare down at me, my mind
willing him not to be a dream.


That’s not the way Otvla
is telling it, Daphedaenya.”


No. No. No.” Shaking my
head vigorously, whispering desperately, I reached up to cup his
face in my hands, pulling back before they would have actually
touched him. They were banged up and dirty, dried blood stuck
between what’s left of my nail beds. “And you take her word over
mine?” I asked askance, glancing around to make sure the troll
wasn’t present.


No.” But the uncertainty I
heard in his voice as it caught on the word tore at me, and my lips
trembled.


Trystan,” I choked out,
and he ran his hand caressingly down my cheek, taking in my current
state.


Ah, what has he done to
you, my love? You have blood all over your face, and your neck is
purple.”


Be doin’ a lot worse to
ye, boy, ye can be sure, if ye dinna unhand that
female.”

My eyes widened, but Trystan pushed me
behind him. Tensing, as if preparing for a fight, he pulled a slim
dagger from his boot.


Run, Daph, and don’t look
back.”


Oh, my god, Trystan! What
are you…?”


Just go, Daphedaenya,” he
barked, “now!”

My eyes slid nervously to
the troll, and he growled, as if he could read my mind.
‘Don’t even think it,’
his look warned.

Biting my cheek, I wisely kept my
place. One day in and I knew to heed that expression
well.

The troll’s hands flexed, as if he
wished nothing more than to curl it around something and choke it.
Eyes darting between them, I found myself clenching my own hands
tightly, reflexively, together in front of me.


I… I can’t, Trystan,
he’ll...” my voice trailed off as Trystan started waving his knife
around wildly, as if he had no idea how to go about using
it.

The troll bellowed out in rage and
took a crouched stance, hunching his shoulders forward as he
balanced effortlessly on the balls of his feet, knuckles rolling
his thick frame forward on the floor.


Daph, now! Do as I say!”
Trystan commanded, waving the small, sharp blade around
frantically, circling the snarling troll in front of
him.


Stupid, whelp,” the troll
chuffed, “shoulda listened ta me at the first.”

Trystan cried out in sudden pain as
the troll moved fast, inhumanly fast, a knife of his own whipping
out and shooting across the space between them. The larger, wider
black dagger landed in Trystan’s shoulder with a sickening
thunk.

My would-be rescuer called out,
crumpling, screaming bloody murder as blood dribbled from his wound
and he writhed on the floor.

The troll knocked me over as he leapt
over and pressed Trystan into the ground, his hands wrapping around
his neck tight.


Try ta kill me, will ye?
Take off wit’ me slave, hmm? I’ll pop yer head off an’ smash it
like a grape!”

Trystan started choking between
gasping cries, his face mottling as he slowly
suffocated.


No! Please!” I gripped the
troll’s arm and tugged. “Please! Please!” I screamed as he ignored
me. “I love him!!”

Snarling, he shrugged me off but
loosened his grip. Lips pulled back in a gruesome grimace, his eyes
shot to mine, narrowing as his lip curled up and his chest
rumbled.

I met them unflinchingly, babbling as
I tried to plead my case.


He’s pissed himself,” he
grumbled disgustedly, cutting me off, his nose crinkling up. “How
can ye love a pissin’ little excuse fer a male?”


I love him! I do! Please,
don’t kill him!” I wasn’t beyond begging, and he knew it, the tears
streaming down my face as I cried out desperately obvious
enough.

Trystan promptly passed out, and the
troll snorted and shook his head, releasing him to stand up,
nudging him with his foot.

Lips thinning, he paused for a moment,
studying him. “Ugly little fella, isna he?”


No.” Pushing away from
him, I knelt down and cradled Trystan’s head in my lap, pressing
the white material of the oversized gown I wore into his wound in
hopes of staunching some of the bleeding. “He’s perfect,” I
whispered.


He’s ugly an’ he pissed
himself. He’s sad an’ weak, nugget. Be thinkin’ ye canna do much
worse than tha’.” Huffing, he let out a noisy sigh and ran a finger
under his nose, as if to stave off the rising, acrid scent of
urine.


And how would you know?” I
snapped through my tears. “What does a troll know of love? Of
anything?”


What do ye?” he
countered.

Sniffling as I cried softly, I ran my
hands through Trystan’s thick black curls, placing a chaste kiss on
his forehead.


I know I love him and he
loves me, and that’s good enough for me.”


So... ye’d die fer ‘im,
then?” It sounded as if the thought was completely foreign to him,
ridiculous, even.

Never taking my eyes off my beloved, I
nodded. I didn’t even need to think about it.


An’ ye truly think he’d be
willin’ ta do the same, eh? Truly?”


Yes,” I said with complete
conviction. “Isn’t that what he just did now?”


No,” he chuckled, ignoring
my warning glare as he nudged him with his toe again. “He just
waved a knife at me, yellin’, got stabbed, an’ pissed himself, but
not before flailin’ about an’ carryin’ on,
like a babe.
Oh, an’ all in front
‘o’ his
love.”

The condescension dripping from his
voice made me want to kick him, but I didn’t dare leave Trystan’s
side.


Well, come on, then, kiss
him good-bye an’ let me get on wit’ it.” The troll let out a
lengthy sigh and motioned for me to get up.

Not liking the look in his eye, I
clutched my betrothed tighter. “Get on with what?”


Come on now, ye aint as
dafty as yer name, is ye? Killin’ him, ‘o’ course. So,
move.”

BOOK: The Toll
7.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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