he had been in this world, but he still outweighed Wiz by nearly 100
pounds just as he overtopped him by a head.
“Next full moon,” Wiz agreed and got up as well.
I hope they will be here then, he thought as he followed Jerry through the
fading light of the corridor and out into the clear frosty air outside the
hill. There was no door or other obvious exit. One step they were within
the enchanted hill and the next step they were outside, with the forest
looming up behind them and the gently glowing magic barrier that cordoned
off this place in front of them.
Reflexively they both inhaled deeply. There was nothing wrong with the air
inside, but the air outside seemed sweeter. The smell of freedom, Wiz
decided. It was just a few more steps along the moonlit path and they were
past the barrier and back in the forest that belonged to men.
“Mortals drive us from the forest,” the troll king’s voice echoed off the
walls of the cavern. “We cannot hunt where we did.”
Meaning you can’t hunt mortals, King Tosig thought sourly. Well, what did
you expect, you silly nit? You go around eating people, even mortals, and
naturally they’ll object. The burning in his stomach was stronger and he
knew he would be up all night, walking the floor and drinking ground
chalk.
He understood the trolls’ problem in a general way. For time out of mind
trolls had roamed the marches of the human realms, devouring human
travelers and occasionally daring to attack mortal farms and villages.
Then three or four seasons ago a new magician had arisen among the humans.
Brought from outside the World, or so the story went.
At first this alien wizard had only used his power in human quarrels. But
before long his vastly more powerful magic had begun to spread among
mortals. Suddenly the humans had respectable magical powers and the
trolls, who had almost none, had lost a major item in their diet.
Tosig tugged his beard. This was a pretty problem indeed. So far there had
been little contact between humans and dwarves and he would just as soon
keep it that way. His realms were far from the lands of mortals and his
people had not suffered from the humans’ new magic. However he had heard
stories and they were not the sort to encourage him to stir up trouble in
that direction.
Well, maybe he wouldn’t have to. The king had been talking for nearly a
day-tenth and hadn’t yet . . .
“I call debt-right!” the troll king thundered. “Blood for my people.”
A stillness settled over the hall. All the dwarves present knew that the
troll kings’ claim was legitimate. Tosig sighed and inwardly cursed the
day he had contracted a debt to a gang of trolls. But contract it he had,
and now the troll had made a formal demand. Debts must be paid.
There were practical considerations as well. The dwarves traded salt and
iron to the trolls for hides, some forest products and the odd bit of
booty. It was not a terribly profitable trade, but if the truth be known
the Mid-Northeastern Dwarves of the Southern Forest Range were not a
terribly wealthy tribe. They didn’t need complications with the trolls
now.
As if I didn’t have enough problems! Tosig thought as the pain in his
stomach gnawed and the silence stretched on. As if . . . Suddenly he
stopped short and thought furiously.
Ignoring the burning inside he nodded to his visitors.
“It pleases me to grant your request. The thing shall be done.” He waved
dismissal. “Now go.”
“When?” the small troll demanded eagerly.
“Soon,” Tosig said loftily. “Return to your forests.” He repeated the
dismissing gesture. The guards around the perimeter of the hall shifted
and the trolls took the hint. Jostling and squabbling, they made their way
out of the hall.
As soon as his unwelcome guests were gone, he motioned to his seneschal.
“Make sure they leave immediately,” he said, rising from his throne. “And
see that their rooms are fumigated. The last batch had lice.”
The seneschal nodded and began to back away, but the dwarf king caught his