As the day died, Thorolf pitched his little tent at the edge of the village and pulled off his boots. Berthar asked:
"What do ye, Thorolf?"
"As any fool can see, I am stalking a Pantorozian tiger," snapped Thorolf.
"Oh, come, be not angry! Ye were right to separate those twain even if compelled to be rough with them. Are ye going to sleep?"
"Aye. Having been on the dodge for a sennight, I weary."
"Ye take not your usual tent, with Bza?"
"She threatened to cut off my manhood whilst I slept, so I shall rest better alone."
"Then what of the Countess and me? My sack is not spacious enough for two ..."
"Ask Wok to find spaces for the twain of you. Yvette was right; this shelter is really not large enough for more than one. Good night."
Later, finding sleep elusive despite his fatigue, Thorolf heard Yvette say:
"... in Grintz, a commoner who laid violent hands upon me would be torn between wild horses."
"But, my dear, he had to! He did after all save your life."
"So I ween; but it's hard to forgive such presumptuous treatment. My elbow was skinned in the fall, and my arm aches from the twist he gave it."
"Ye should make amends."
"I would have, earlier; but he professed not to hear when I spake. Now he sulks, because I gave him not what ..."
The voices faded with distance. Thorolf mentally finished her last sentence: "... what I gave you." He uttered a little snort of disgust, partly at himself for being, despite all, still in love with the jade.
X – Sanguinary Swords
When Thorolf finally dropped off, he slept heavily, so that the sun was well up before he awoke. As he crawled out and started for the patch of ground on the leeward side of the village used by the trolls for toilet purposes, Chief Wok hailed him:
"Ho there! Know ye what hath become of your Bza?"
"Nay," said Thorolf. "What has?"
"Disappeared, along with young Khop. Methinks they've run off together."
"I'm not surprised. She took Khop as a lover whilst I dwelt with her."
"Oho! Then why haven't ye slain Khop, or at least given him a good drubbing?"
Thorolf grinned at the idea of a human being, even so powerful a one as himself, thrashing the mighty Khop. "I already had my bow trained upon the Countess. My junction with Bza was what we call a marriage of convenience. If she prefer Khop, I shall send good wishes after them."
Wok shook his head. "Ye lowlanders are strange beings. Ye are plainly no coward; and yet ..."
"Any notion of whither they've gone?"
"Belike to the Dorblentzes to join Chief Yig's horde."
"Perchance Khop can arrange peace betwixt the hordes. You trolls need all your combined strength to resist lowland encroachments."
"Me, friends with that louse! ... But it could be that ye have an idea there, Thorolf. I'll think upon it. Now what of the twain ye brought hither? I found places for them—the woman in mine own tent, though I had to toss out one of my wives."
Thorolf: "They won't be here long." He looked around and sighted Berthar and Yvette, sitting in a circle of trolls and making the best of a breakfast of smoked goat's meat and barley porridge. They looked up as he approached.
"Heigh-ho, Thorolf!" said the Countess. "When canst arrange my safe return to Zurshnitt?"
Berthar said: "I must spend a day or two seeking my salamanders ere returning to the city."
"Zurshnitt won't be safe until we've drawn Parthenius' fangs," said Thorolf. "I shall have to get in touch with my father—"
"Nonsense, Thorolf!" snapped Yvette. "A man as able as you can surely cleanse that nest of vipers without going through your tedious Rhaetian legalisms!"
"I thank you for the compliment," said Thorolf, "but I fear you overstate mine abilities. I'm no demigod, like that fellow Zorius in your Dualistic religion—the one they sacrificed. What's your True Faith, by the way?"
She shrugged. "I bend to local beliefs and prejudices, having no fanatical faith of mine own. But why can't you lead the trolls through the tunnels, burst in upon Parthenius and his creatures, and slaughter the lot? If Orlandus be dead, they'll have no wizard to ward them with spells."
"I have broached the idea," said Thorolf. "Wok refused it as too risky."
"But that was ere Orlandus' death, was't not? Now you'd have a better chance of striking quickly."
"Much depends," Thorolf explained, "on my father's persuading the Senate to recognize the trolls as human."
"But that might take months, whilst your politicians trade favors and strike deals! I'll not endure to be mewed up here amongst these stinking ape-men—"
"Watch your tongue!" Thorolf snapped in Helladic, the international language of scholars. "Some understand you."
"I care not! I gat no sleep last night, jammed in with a lot of trolls, snoring and stinking, and betimes old Wok awakening to futter one or another of's wives, whilst the rest looked on and made ribald comments— I suppose on his performance, if I could have understood their hoggish speech. He asked me if I expected the same service and seemed relieved when I did assure him that I did not. He explained that he was willing to tup me as a matter of simple hospitality, albeit he found me repulsive." She gave a little sputter of laughter. "But you can perceive why life in troll-land has for me no allure."
"Oh, come, Countess," said Berthar soothingly. "We shall get better sleeping arrangements. Whilst we be in exile here, ye can help me to search for my salamanders—"
"Oh, bugger your little lizards!" cried Yvette. "I'll not abide such treatment—"
"My dear," said Berthar with a pained expression, "I have explained that they be not lizards—"
"But I will not be cooped and confined—"
"Sorry, your Highness," said Thorolf, "but I know not what else you can do."
He started to walk away. Then something soft and moist struck him smartly in the back of his head. As he spun around, he clapped a hand to the spot. His hand came away with a flattened gob of barley porridge.
Yvette, still seated beside Berthar, dug her spoon into the porridge bowl. She held up the spoon, grasping the stem with the thumb and two fingers of her right hand while with those of her left she pulled back the bowl of the spoon, so that it acted like the throwing arm of a one-armed catapult. Furious, Thorolf shouted:
"If you do that again, I'll spank your pretty pink arse!"
"You wouldn't dare!" she cried, raising the spoon to take aim.
"Try me!" barked Thorolf.
"My lady!" said Berthar, grasping her arm. "I beg you! We dare not fall out; we must stand together—"
He broke off as a troll rushed into the village, shouting: "Foe! Foe! Foe!"
"To arms!" roared Wok. The village burst into frantic motion. Females snatched up their cubs. Males dove for their tents, to emerge with weapons. All yelled at the tops of their powerful voices until the noise was deafening.
Berthar and Yvette sprang up, the latter crying: "Where? Whence come they?"
Shading his eyes, Thorolf peered about until he saw a flash of the sun on armor, along the trail to Zurshnitt. "Yonder!" he cried. "I'll get my crossbow."
Wok hurried the trolls into a ragged line athwart the path of the oncoming force. As the figures grew larger, Thorolf saw that in their van marched three ogres, each half again as tall as a man and bearing a huge club. Behind them came Parthenius, in helmet and half-armor of plate. After him strode a score or so of chain-clad guards from Castle Zurshnitt in Sophonomy's sky-blue surcoats. To Yvette and Berthar, Thorolf growled:
"We need not seek out Parthenius and his merry men; they come to us."