The Toll (36 page)

“
About a boy?” My dinner
companion asked slyly, a guarded look crossing her face.

Watching her closely as my gaze slid
up, I debated. To tell, or not to tell? Ultimately, I went with the
truth.

“
A troll, actually. A big,
hairless, meandering, foul-mouthed, orange-eyed, grey skinned
menace.”

“
Oh?” Lips twitching, she
shook her head and cackled whole heartedly, thinking me teasing,
slapping her knee hard enough she almost upset her
supper.

“
Yes,” I nodded, expression
intent, “I’m thinking about making a rug out of one. Any advice?”
If I can get my body to move in concert with my head and not attack
him like a starved mad woman hell bent on ravaging him, then, yes,
a rug or a shrunken head would do nicely. I could hang the head
over my bed, wherever I end up, like a trophy. Or if it’s a rug,
I’ll just drop it by the foot of my as of yet found bed, stomping
on it every morning as I get up to start the day.

A giggle slipped past my lips and I
snorted. I really have gone mad.

Face alight, fairly glowing in the
fire’s light as her eyes danced, lending her a bit of a shadow of
the great beauty she must have been once upon a time, my remarks
only served to make the old woman laugh harder.

“
I think I be liking you,
Nugget.” Nodding her head happily as she watched me, a small laugh
escaped me
.
It
felt good. Teasing me a bit more as she cackled aloud, I giggled
again and my lips tipped up.

****

“
Here.” Another mug was
thrust in my face, my bowl unceremoniously yanked from my hands,
replaced with the warm smell of something spicy and earthy. It
tickled my nose but warmed the senses.
Warm cider? Spiced tea?

Mmm.
Giving it an appreciative sniff, hands warming around the
mug, I glanced up at her, cautiously taking a sip.

“
Special brew,” she
grunted, “warms the bones.”

Warmth dipped into my belly at the
first taste, pooling before it spread. I hummed, a pleased sound in
my throat, and took a long drink. True to her word, everything in
me slowly warmed, a languorous, calming lethargy washing over me as
I felt my limbs, one bit at a time, relaxing.

“
Makes my head feel a
little fuzzy,” I murmured, tracking her as she motioned for me to
follow towards the small straw bed she’d been assembling while I
slumped in my warm, cocooned little stupor. Stumbling to get up as
I licked my lips, I tried to follow. “Got any more?”

My speech was getting slurred as I
reached her and plopped down in the bed of straw, smiling slowly as
she pulled my sheet up to my chin, tossing a mess of furs on top of
me, along with her faded blue cape.

“
No,” she whispered
quietly, “I don’t think you’ll be needin’ more.”

“
No?” I mumbled, trying to
crack a heavy lid open to peer at her, letting out a jaw cracking
yawn.

“
No.” There was laughter in
her voice, and it made her sound younger, happier—almost carefree.
“Chose wisely, I be thinkin’.”

“
Who did?”
Whuh... was going on? What did I miss?

“
Sleep, little one,” she
whispered, “and we shall just see,” crooning to me
softly.

“
But... name... I don’t
even...”

“
Ah, but sleep, and know
you’ll keep. Sleep.”

“
A... name?” I mumbled with
my last reserves.

“
Stubborn little thing,
aintcha?” I could make out her snort before she gently brushed a
hand across my temple, my mind already drifting off. Her voice
changed, the smooth dulcet tones of a softly spoken stranger
murmuring sweetly, “You may call me Niniane.”

What Be This?

There was a low moan, and my eyes
fluttered open. Brain foggy and muddled, I had a hard time focusing
properly, my mouth dry to the bone as a harsh breath escaped
cracked lips. Beyond parched, my tongue felt thick and heavy in my
dehydrated mouth. My arms ached and my chest felt heavy too, body
propped up against a cold, hard surface.

This wasn’t the coarse, itchy bed of
straw I’d fallen asleep in, and my arms felt thick and numb,
suspended just above my head.

Vision eventually
adjusting, my eyes widened as I took in my new surroundings.
What is this place? Where am I?
Trying to lift my hand to my face proved useless,
and at a quick glance, I had trouble processing what my eyes were
trying to tell me—
I’m chained to a
wall.

Panic quickly stealing over, I tugged
at my restraints. All I got for my efforts were shooting pains
zipping up and down the blood deprived limbs—likened to being poked
by a thousand pins and needles.

The air was cool and damp, the fetid
stench of death and human excrement surrounding me. Light of any
kind was barely to be had, a lone lit torch on one of the farthest
walls, about to die out, but I could still make out the room in its
entirely.

Oh, god. Gaol! I’m... But
how? Why?

“
No. No. No. Why?” My
breath rushed out in a whisper, a familiar grunt sending my head
snapping to the side. “Troll?”

An animalistic grunt, followed by a
pained hiss, had me staring off across the way, directly at the
huddled form balled up in the darkness.

“
T-t-t-t... Troll?”
No. That can’t be him.

“
Nugget?”

“
Tro- Uhm, Bektam? Why are
we in jail?” Breath catching, I was beginning to get very
lightheaded, wondering if I might faint.

“
Dinna ye remember?” he
rumbled tentatively, grunting with the effort.

“
N-n-no.” I wasn’t sure if
I wanted to. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good, and this wasn’t
about to end well.

“
An’ it’s Gersthart to you,
nugget. Dinna be callin’ me falsities.”

“
Why are we here?” Voice
just above a whisper, small and frightened, I dreaded what his
answer might be.

“
Ye’re scared. Dinna be.
I’ll protect ye.” Hissing through gritted teeth, I could hear him
moving, as if to sit up, his choppy breaths sending my own
stuttering as my heart raced, worried.

Something’s not right.
What’s wrong with him?

The scraping of Troll’s bare feet were
disturbingly loud as he pulled himself into a sitting position,
straw sticking to the parts of him that I could make
out.

At the first good look I glimpsed of
him, his efforts to sit up bringing him clearly into view, I
gasped, taking in his badly beaten form. Huddled in a massive lump,
unchained but suddenly unmoving, his chest heaving in a way that
told me his ribs must be broken, quite a few, labored breaths
wheezing, rattling out of him. His body was covered in various cuts
and bruises, scars and deep gashes marring his thick grey skin,
dried, crusted blood obscuring his runes.

A startled cry escaped me and I
instinctively went to reach out to him, groaning as the effort only
caused me more pain.

Swollen almost beyond recognition, one
of his eyes was unable to open, and he had a rather large bump on
his head. Dry and cracked, his lips were split and dribbling blood,
chin crusted over with that which had long been dried, mixing the
two together.

“
What... what has happened
to you?” Horrified didn’t even begin to explain it as my heartbeat
started drumming away in my ears, pounding away as all traces of
color bled from my face.

“
Dinna be worryin’,” he
muttered through clenched teeth, his good eye cracking open to
stare at me, a bright, orange flame in such a dreary setting.
“Willna let ‘em hurt ye.”

“
What?” Blinking down at
him, shock blasted me anew.

A short, bitter laugh made its way
past his lips and he shook his head. “Ye’re mine. Failed ye once.
Willna...” Pausing, he grimaced as he tried to gain his feet, but
it soon proved impossible, sending him stumbling back. “Willna be
lettin’ it happen again.”

Tears filled my eyes as my lips
started trembling. “Troll?”

“
Gersthart, bonded,” he
fairly snarled, crawling across the filth and rot in the stone
floor to get to me. “No’ Troll.”

“
Gerst-” My lips stuttered,
just trying to get the words out. I couldn’t. “Wh-what did we do?
Why are we being p-p-unished? I need... I need to know!”

There was the sound of loud footsteps
approaching, alerting us we’d soon have company. Growling under his
breath, Troll heaved himself up, tossing his body over mine,
hugging me to him as tight as he could, hovering over me
protectively, careful of the chains holding me.

Underneath the stench in the dungeon
and the smell of unwashed male flesh, I could scent him—warmth and
strength, a resilience only a stubborn troll could possess.
Protection. Home. Mine.

Resting my head gently on his chest, I
whispered one last time, “Please... What’s going on?”

“
Dinna worry, luv,” he
grunted, voice rumbling and deep against my ear as he gave it a
quick, jerky nuzzle. “I’m sorry I failed ye.” His arms tightened,
banding around me, as tears slid down my cheeks. “Shh, now, an’
quit yer blubberin’. I’m here, nugget, an’ I keep me word. No one
will ever hurt ye, again. Dinna let ‘em see they’ve gotten to ye,
eh?”

My body trembled and a choking sob
escaped me. He’d meant every word.

“
What is going on in
here?!” an imperious, authoritative voice bellowed.

There were quiet, useless chatterings
from off behind the booming voice, placations aimed at the angry
male shouting the roof off.

“
Pick him up and get him
off of her!” the impatient man demanded.

“
No!” I shrieked, jerking
my wrists to tug him back. Troll tried to hush me, burying his face
in my neck, grunting with the effort to keep us together against
the fierce sound of booted feet meeting solid flesh.
They’re kicking him!
“Stop it! Stop! You’re hurting him!” My shouts and pleas went
ignored.

“
What’s the matter,
milady?” the angry male looming over us sneered, Trystan’s enraged
face, older and wearing the clothes of the upper nobility, coming
plainly into view. “Worried we might damage your precious
beast?”

Troll groaned and something
smattered my skin, warmth oozing down my neck and chest. A gurgled
cough and a few pained wheezes, blood spattering my
face—
his blood—
sent my heart thumping wildly, trying to claw up my chest and
out my throat. Shrieking in shock and disbelief, I flew into a
blind panic.

“
Leave him alone! You’re
killing him! You’re killing him!”

“
Oh? And wouldn’t that just
be terrible?” The older, angry Trystan mused.

“
Yes! You’re torturing him!
You’re a murderer!”

Lips curling up with disgust, an evil
laugh barked out of him. “He’s no better than me, when all is said
and done. Why, he’s just a stupid-”

“
You’re wrong! And the only
beast in this room is you!” I screamed.

Troll stilled on top of me, slumping,
and Trystan’s men easily pulled him off, letting him fall on the
ground in a crumpled heap.

“
Roll him over. Let’s get
this over with.” Pulling a long, bejeweled dagger from a sheath at
his side, Trystan smiled a twisted, warped grin, kicking Troll’s
leg as his men pushed him flat on his back.

“
No!” Eyes wide and
bulging, I struggled to stand up, lunging at all of them as I
kicked my feet out, shoulders screaming in their sockets, trying to
distract them from what I knew was next to come. “You
can’t!”

“
Oh?” Trystan raised a brow
haughtily and paused. “And why not?” Eyes trailing back and forth
been us, he worried the tip of his blade with the end of his index
finger, hate filled eyes trailing leeringly over my filth ridden
length.

“
I... I won’t let
you!”

“
Hah! You’re going to stop
me, then?” Snapping his fingers, he ordered the men to release
me.

Once my arms were free, I ran to
Troll, ignoring the sting of a thousand needles as my arms gained
circulation. Scrambling across the short distance, I collapsed
beside him, running my fingers over his nape, searching for any
sign of a pulse. It was there, but faint, and I scooted closer,
cradling his head on my lap.

“
Oh, how touching.”
Scoffing, Trystan snorted, nudging my ass with his foot. “Now
move.” Tapping his blade impatiently against his arm as he smirked
down at me disdainfully, I glared up at him defiantly.

“
I won’t let you,” I ground
out quietly, hovering over my troll.

Surprise flit across his features, but
he hid it well.

“
Move. No.”

Glancing down to my bonded’s beaten
face, the words were so low I barely heard them, faint but
urgent.

“
What?” I asked
quietly.