Expiring Covenant (Black Lake Book 1)

Chapter 9
Braes
~

“I was a wanderer half my life,” Yoso whispered, to keep the echo down as we trudged through the granite-arched corridor of the mine. “I met Eina at a clan gatherin’ on the far edge of the Range. Oh she was a beauty in her prime. Shoulders to heave any load, a grip that crushed stone.”

“She’s indeed a looker,” I agreed, doin’ my best to imagine the troll hen as another troll bull might.

“I have no idea how I caught her fancy, or why she agreed to leave the mines to follow me. She’s never caught on to the idea of blue sky overhead, even after all these years, but she’s not abandoned me. Anymore she does little complainin’ about the heat of the summer, or the cold of the winter, though she still misses the constant temperature of the mines.”

“It’s easy to see the love in her eyes for ya,” I said.

“Ya should have seen her with our brood. She spoiled the runts ruthlessly.”

“Spared the rod, did she?” I asked.

“That she did. It was a wonder any of ’em found a mate to put up with ’em. Brats every one, but I love ’em, of course.”

“If they have Eina’s looks, that made up for a lot,” I offered.

“No doubt. I never realized ya to be such a tactful lout.”

I chuckled. The noise rattled off the stone around us.

“The fact they grew enamored with fresh air after their years on the lake makes it a bigger surprise they ever started their own broods. They weren’t excited to return to the mines.”

“Unfortunate ya started no trend with yar kind,” I said.

We trudged deeper into the earth in silence for several moments. My elf legs had to swing briskly to keep up, even though the troll lumbered, I suspect.

“She’s happy enough stayin’ in our little dugout,” Yoso continued. “Though the isolation since the runts left has been a trial. Yar company has meant a world to her.”

“I enjoy her company as well,” I said.

“A season ago, it woulda been hard to imagine yarself sayin’ ya cared for the fellowship of a troll, I’ll bet.”

“Can’t deny that.”

“Nor can I, for an elf. We haven’t seen ya wield any magic. Haven’t turned any of yar foes into toads. That helps.”

I smiled at Yoso’s silhouette. Should I explain elves aren’t the witches depicted in lore? Someday. I thought of an old elflin’ tale, of trolls pinchin’ the top of men’s heads off and dinin’ on their brains. Though I figger they’re physically capable of such a feat, doubted such a thin’ ever happened. Hopefully.

The deep rumble of what sounded like thunder earlier became clearer. The shouts of hundreds of deep, gravelly voices flowed toward us as the shaft split more frequently to the left and right. The meager torch I carried failed to illuminate far into any of the branches, but often, the eerie glow of copper-colored eyes reflected the flame.

The closeness of the rock walls, the blackness, wore oppressive, on this elf who slept half of my life under the stars, and hunted on the plains surroundin’ the forest I lived in. I worked hard not to imagine the tons of rock hangin’ above my head, the giants that hung back, just outside my feeble light.

How do trolls manage in the pitch black? They more than managed, they thrived, many livin’ their whole lives in the mines, never seein’ the light of day. It wasn’t that they had eyes sensitive to dim light, for there’s no light at all. Appeared obvious to me they possess their own kind of majic.

“This will be the first time a lesser race has ever come into our realm—at least met our clan,” Yoso reminded me. “So there will be those very uncomfortable with yar presence. Stay calm, stay close, and keep yar hand off yar hilt.”

Lesser race. I smiled. Remembered hearin’ elven elders use similar language, referrin’ to men, trolls, and ogres.

I drew a fresh torch from the bag I carried over my shoulder, lighted it from the sputterin’ one, and ran to catch up with Yoso. I didn’t notice the troll had entered a large cavern. Yoso stopped to look around perhaps, too abruptly. There was no stoppin’. My feet slid on the damp granite and my face ploughed into Yoso’s leg. I slid to the floor, legs splayed around one of Yoso’s, appearin’ far unlike the ambassador I hoped to act, no doubt. My grip lost, the torch dropped to the ground a troll’s arm-length away, thrown from feeble light to just a glimmer, I felt inside a buried coffin with no air.

I froze with the sudden blackness. Peered around my friend’s cuff, to see a long, arched line of bronze eyes reflectin’ the meager flame, like a surreal nightmare. A moment later Yoso lifted the torch high and faces took shape. Yoso offered his hand, and pulled me to my feet. Despite the chill air in the cavern my flesh tingled with heat.

Oh, what an entrance. I wish I did have majic now, I’d wizard myself invisible.

An ancient troll took a step forward. He leaned heavily on his staff, arched shoulders pushed his head forward. The skin of his face sagged and his nose and ears appeared more appropriate for a much larger creature. He peered down at me, studyin’ me a very long moment, tiltin’ his head back and forth a couple of times as though he’d never seen an elven sort. Good chance he hadn’t. His eyes blinked slowly.

“Now that Yoso and his guest are here, we can proceed with the topic this council was called to discuss,” the troll drawled in Standish. Thankfully. My Trollish is iffy at best.

Though more a growl to an elven ear, the elder actually sounded neutral, unemotional for a troll. I did what I could to brush the mud off my rump. Though my entrance might not have been the greatest, the troll’s tone reassured.

Yoso placed the grip of the torch into a crack high in the wall, better distributin’ the scant light. The other trolls sat, leavin’ the lone speaker standin’. I sat next to Yoso and immediately the cold of the rock penetrated my wet breeches.

“I recognize Jear,” the elder said, pointin’ with a gnarled hand at the grouchy geezer who had visited the inn a week earlier.

Jear stood with a helpin’ arm from a younger troll and leaned against his staff. “The easiest way to avoid the horde of humans who will soon converge on Black Lake,” the troll shouted with no preamble, “is to slay this little trouble maker and torch his inn.”

A din erupted, a thousand voices, it seemed, gruntin’ and laughin’. Yoso rested his broad hand on my shoulder. The touch at first made me jerk. The sense of support helped me fight the urge to leap up and run for my life.

What have I done? Thrown myself into a boilin’ kettle.

The noise continued until the elder pounded the ground with his staff, gougin’ my ears. Slowly, quiet returned.

“We thank Jear for his solution, though breakin’ the Common Covenant isn’t somethin’ this council will consider.” He spoke methodically, without a speck of emotion.

I took an easier, deep breath.

“Would not one death be better than war?” Jear shouted.

A hail of grunts thundered through the cavern again.

I jumped to my feet without thinkin’. Yoso pressed on my shoulder, but somewhere I found the strength to resist him. The elder glared at me. “Ya’re here as a courtesy. Ya can’t address the council.”

“Because it’s written or because it’s never been done before?” I asked, ignorin’ Yoso’s nervous hisses.

The elder stepped within an arm’s reach, white-ish eyes studyin’ me for a long count. “For a runt that rises to my knee, ya’re a brave tyke,” he thundered. “Considerin’ there are many here willin’ to snap ya in two, I’m humored enough by yar impertinence. What do ya wish the council to hear?”

As he stepped back, I stepped forward, tryin’ to ignore my shakin’ knees, the grip stranglin’ my gut.

“The ant feeds upon the forest floor. The grub feasts on the ant’s eggs. The mole feasts upon the grub, which is in turn eaten by the swift—”

“Ahhh,” the angry Jear interrupted. “Ya give us another course. We can eat ya.”

The laughs echoed so loudly in my elven, sensitive ears I thought my head would burst, but I stood still, though my knees threatened to buckle. I had pandered to bullies all of my life, but found myself oddly determined today. I pulled back my shoulders and lifted my chin. Never undo my undignified entry, but the stiff spine helped, a tad.

“Those that crawl and fly do what they can to survive, as nature directs ’em. Each and every one has their niche to fill and they go blindly, survivin’. But we have minds that allow us to do more than survive.”

I pointed a finger at Jear, and surveyed the glowin’ eyes around me. “We have the capacity of reason, to develop our surroundin’s.”

“We can pound the head of every human who enters the valley,” Jear yelled.

“Or ya can trade with ’em and thrive on the foods they harvest and pasture, treat the coughs of yar young with the herbs they grow, wear the threads they weave, boots they cobble—”

A chorus of mockery drowned me out. Maybe mentionin’ footwear wasn’t such a good suggestion. I wiggled my own naked toes.

“Ya can use the steel they hammer,” I shouted when it quieted. The last argument turned their expressions and quieted them. I had finally hit upon a commodity they coveted.

The trolls dove into animated side conversations as the elder lost control again. He thumped his staff repeatedly. I covered my ears. My head throbbed. After several minutes, the elder finally reclaimed a semblance of order.

“Sounds our runt-guest struck a chord,” the elder said, and chuckled.

Runt!

Laughs attacked my eardrums again, but at least it wasn’t for calls for war, or my hide, and the din only lasted a few seconds.

“So ya propose there’s room for humans and trolls to live side-by-side, do ya, elf?”

“I do,” I said with the deepest voice I could muster, with a throat half closed.

The elder said, “I woulda suggested the same thin’ if ya hadn’t been so impatient.”

A spatterin’ of guttural chuckles filled the cavern.

Every day my prejudice that trolls have no sense of humor is weakened.

Jear argued for a time. He had a couple supporters, but they were each shouted down and ridiculed. I wished representatives of all the races attended, to see firsthand how reasonable trolls can be, in their way, to dent the prejudice against them. But as the mole that feasted on the grub, there may be some thin’s that can’t be changed. For some.

~

As Yoso led me toward the surface when the council adjourned, the troll berated me. “I’ll not take ya anywhere again. Ya haven’t the discretion the gods gave a rat. And I was goin’ to invite ya on a hike to visit my hen younglin’. I doubt that’s gonna happen. Don’t want the younglin’s to think all the lesser races are as brash and thoughtless as ya.”

“But I can show ’em how lovable the elven folk are,” I teased.

“Ya were almost a sample of how delicious the elven folk taste.”

The skin across my neck tingled, but I felt an enormous grin cross my face. How different my life is now. Oh, how I’ve changed since leavin’ my elven home. I’ve experienced thin’s I could never have imagined. Expect to experience much more, with humans makin’ their way to my inn.

If they do.

~