Thieves World 3 – Shadows of Sanctuary by Asprin, Robert

oxen drew abreast of the prince. The troll leaped up and cursed in a high

pitched angry voice.

‘You uncivilized barbarians! You, prince – prince of worms, I say, of maggots!

May your penis grow till no one will have you! May your best friend’s vagina

knot itself with you inside! May you contract water on the brain and sand in the

bladder!’

Wess felt herself blushing: she had never heard a troll speak so. Ordinarily

they were the most cultured of forest people, and the only danger in them was

that one might find oneself listening for a whole afternoon to a discourse on

the shapes of clouds or the effects of certain shelf-fungi. Wess looked around,

frightened that someone would take offence at what the troll was saying to their

ruler. Then she remembered that he was speaking the Language, the real tongue of

intelligent creatures, and in this place no one but she and her friends

understood.

‘Frejojan!’ she cried on impulse. ‘Tonight – be ready – if I can -!’

He hesitated in the midst of a caper, stumbled, but caught himself and gambolled

around, making nonsense noises till he faced her. She pulled her hood back so he

could recognize her later. She let it fall again as the cart passed, so Bauchle

Meyne would not see her from the other side of the path.

The grey-gold furry little being gripped the bars of his cage and looked out,

making horrible faces at the crowd, horrible noises in reaction to their jeers.

But between the shrieks and the gibberish, he said, ‘I wait -‘

After he passed them, he began to wail..