"That's disgusting," the half-elf spat, as she tugged the arm free, taking some of Fiona's flesh with it. Then she dropped the limb to the cavern floor and snatched the torch from the Solamnic, thrusting the flame to the arm and gagging at the smell of the burning troll flesh.
"Damnable beast!" Fiona cursed. Her free hand held over her injured cheek, she swung at the creature more fiercely, severing its other arm. It howled angrily at her and tried to roll away, but she pressed her attack, repeatedly hacking at it until it was still. Then she threw the dismembered pieces away from the torso and glanced about for her torch.
The half-elf had carried it to Dhamon, who was burning the troll he and Maldred had slain for the second time. The Solamnic reached for her backpack, retrieved a second torch, and quickly lit it and went to work.
Behind her, Rig was calling for some fire.
"Yuck." This came from the half-elf, who had picked up a troll foot, the toes of which were jerking. She tossed it Fiona's way, and busied herself by retrieving the other pieces the Solamnic had scattered, and complaining each time she found something that wriggled.
"Here!" Fetch hollered. "Look over here!" He was gesturing toward the base of the pillar he clung to. A head had rolled there, and was continuing to roll toward the entrance as if it were attempting to make an escape.
"I'll get it," Rig returned. He tromped over to the pillar and hauled back on his leg, intending to kick the head out of the cave.
"Stop!" Dhamon brought his torch over and applied it to the head, grimacing when it opened its mouth and screeched. "There are tales that amputated troll limbs can regrow entire bodies."
"Since when did you believe everything you heard?" The mariner brushed by him and checked on Fiona.
It took the better part of an hour to cut up the trolls and burn them in a large bonfire, which made the cavern reek of charred flesh.
"I'm not certain we got all the pieces," Dhamon said as they stood at the cavern entrance, where everyone had retreated for clean air. He kept his eyes trained on the blaze, occasionally glancing to the walls and the pillars, where the carved dwarven images were more illuminated now.
Then, while Maldred and Rig took turns watching the fire as it dwindled, using their swords to push back fingers and feet that tried to crawl away, Dhamon tended to Fiona.
"It might scar," Dhamon told her as he cleansed her torn cheek with a little of his alcohol. "But the healer in Bloten, Grim Kedar, is amazing. He might be able to help you."
"I will be fine."
"You're cut to the bone. I'd like him to look at you. No telling if you might get some infection or disease. You shouldn't take any chances with something like this. Those creatures' claws were filthy."
"I'm surprised you care."
"I don't," he said flatly. "But it's pretty clear that Maldred does."
"Fine. All right then. I'll see this Grim Kedar fellow when we return to Bloten."
Rikali glided up to the pair. "Oh, I don't know, lover, I think a scar would give the Lady Knight a bit more character." Then the half-elf glided away, before Fiona could think to reply. Dhamon stifled a chuckle.
"Couldn't you have done that outside?" Fetch asked the companions, finally climbing down from the pillar and holding his nose. He pointed to the pile of smoldering ashes. He had refused to budge until he was positive the trolls would not be coming back to life. The kobold waved his hand in front of his face. "It stinks worse'n me."
"That's debatable," said the mariner. "Anyway, it's still raining, so we couldn't've burned them outside." He sharply added, "And thanks for all your help with this." He gestured at the smoldering remains.
"Any time." The kobold wandered away, inspecting the altar Rikali was sitting on, ogling his reflected face in its smooth surface for a few minutes before getting bored with that activity and disappearing to explore one of the alcoves.
"Most certainly these were the ‘giants' the villagers were being pestered by," Rig said after several minutes of silence. "Don't have any souvenirs from them to show Donnag as proof we fixed the Knollsbank problem, though." He glanced at Maldred. "Will the ogre take our word?"
"A better question," interjected Fiona, "is will he keep his?"
"He will." Maldred was looking out at the dark gray sky. There was no hint of light, telling him the sun had set more than an hour ago. "Either the trolls were trapped in here and got out when this fissure opened, or they've been in the mountains a while and started after the goats when whatever it was they were eating ran out-or was washed away by all this rain."
"Does it matter?" Rikali asked. "The beasties're dead. And we call this job done, pry the gems out of the pillars, and get out of here. Besides, we're…"
"They were the giants for certain!" Fetch was dragging the carcass of a kid into the chamber. "All sorts of bones back there. An' some stairs. But I wasn't going down them alone." He paused and dropped the bones. "Just in case there're more of them trolls."
Maldred motioned for Fiona, plucked another torch from her backpack. "We ought to make sure there aren't three more." Softer, for her ears alone, he added, "You are indeed an impressive warrior, Lady Knight. I watched you wield your blade. A match for any man I know. Probably any two."
"It shouldn't matter if there are more." Dhamon snatched up the torch they'd used to light the troll bonfire. "But to make you happy, Mai, I'll take the right passage."
"And I will take the left, my friend."
"Whoa!" Rig tromped past them, then whirled, hands held up to block them. "I agree with the half-elf. We met Donnag's conditions. We killed the ‘wolves'-giants- whatever you want to call them. Now let's go back to Bloten and see if Lord Donnag keeps his end of the bargain. He promised Fiona a chest full of treasure and men to guard it on the way to Takar. Let's not take any more chances."
Rikali clung to Dhamon's arm. "Let's go explorin', lover. I'll come along-for just a little while. Might find all manner of pretty little baubles for my pretty little neck." She snaked out a hand and touched Rig's shoulder. "We can go back to stinky old Bloten in a bit. After we take a quick look downstairs. Then I want to come pluck me those onyx eyes," she gestured at the pillar, "before we return to Donnag. Stay up here if you're ‘fraid." Then she tugged Dhamon toward the alcove, and a moment later they'd disappeared inside.
Rig growled. "I don't trust either of them."
"Then go with them," Maldred answered. "I'll stay here with Fiona."
The mariner drew his lips into a thin line and met Fiona's gaze. His eyes told her he didn't trust Maldred either.
"I'll be all right," she said. "It's a good idea to keep an eye on Dhamon."
The mariner turned to follow Dhamon, though his thoughts were on Maldred and Fiona.
"Three hours at most!" Maldred called after Rig. "Try to judge your time and meet back here in three hours! Your torch won't last much longer than that." Softer, he added to Fiona, "to the left, then, my love." He carried the torch and led her into the darkness. "Fetch," he added, "stay right here and wait for us."
The kobold scowled. He knew that tone. He sat down, staring at the embers glowing amid the pile of ashes.
CHAPTER TEN
Lost Faces
Fetch poked the end of his hoopak into the troll ashes and grumbled. "Fetch, do this for me. Fetch, do that for me. Fetch, carry this. Fetch, stay here. Fetch-you stink when you get wet. Fetch, quit playing with the fire. Fetch. Fetch. Fetch." He stomped his foot against the tiled floor. "My name is Ilbreth."