“Any chance of another spell?” I cry.
“No,” says Lisutaris. She draws her sword, for all the good that will do. The troll raises the mace again. I grab Lisutaris and throw her over the altar, and follow her as quickly as I can. We make it just in time. The troll’s mace smashes into the altar, breaking it into pieces. I find myself on my back, looking over a pile of shattered marble. Makri, it turns out, didn’t follow us over the altar. She took the opportunity to duck under the mace and attack. She manages to plant her sword in the creature’s shin. It’s a brave manoeuvre. Unfortunately it has no effect. The troll doesn’t even seem to feel it. To make matters worse, Makri’s sword gets stuck. It takes her only a second to pull it free but it’s enough time for the troll to kick out at her. Makri is sent flying backwards by the force of the blow. She lands beside us, dazed and bleeding. The troll advances. Behind it come the three remaining Orcish warriors. The situation is looking bad.
I have to get the troll away from Lisutaris. If our War Leader dies here, the West will fall to Prince Amrag. On the ground beside me is small bowl of incense, still burning. I stand up, pick up the bowl, and fling it at the troll. I have no great hopes of this, but it does distract it for a second. I leap forward, invert my sword, and jam it down with all my strength on the beast’s smallest toe, visible through its enormous sandals. Whether because of my bulk and strength, or perhaps some weakness of the toes, this does produce an effect. The gigantic troll howls in pain, and rounds on me, a look of demented fury on its face.
“How d’you like that?” I cry, and jam my sword back into its toe. This produces another howl of rage, and a swing of the mace that would break me into little pieces were it to connect. Having now caught the monster’s attention, I set off at a run, hurling curses and abuse as I go. If I can just distract the troll for long enough, Lisutaris might be able to come up with something. Or else she can flee. Makri can surely take care of the three remaining Orcs.
I run through the trees, down a slope. I glance back over my shoulder and am horrified to see that the troll is gaining on me. I’m not the fastest runner in the world - being rather bulky for this sort of exercise - but I had thought I might outpace it. Apparently not. Whoever made this magic troll gave it a lot of speed. It’s gaining on me. I discard my shield, in an effort to run faster. It doesn’t really help. I can sense that at any moment I’m going to be flattened by the largest mace ever seen in the West. I risk another glance over my shoulder. The troll is right behind me. Its weapon is in the air, swinging towards me. At this vital moment, I catch my foot on a tree root and crash to the ground. A look of bestial pleasure appears on the troll’s face as it prepares to squash me like a bug.
“Damn you!” I cry, from the ground, as it looms over me. In rage and frustration, I fling my sword at its face. To my absolute astonishment, my Elvish blade goes right into the troll’s eye, sinking in deep and true. The huge creature halts, shudders, then falls to the ground. I haul myself to my feet, unable quite to believe what just happened. Swords aren’t designed to be thrown accurately like that. I couldn’t do it again if my life depended on it. Yet here we are, one dead troll and one live investigator, feeling quite pleased with himself.
I remove my sword from the troll’s eye. The sharp Elvish blade penetrated very deeply. I must express my gratitude to the Elves some time. Wearily, I make my way back up the hill. I’m worn out, and can’t move very quickly. If Makri and Lisutaris can’t deal with the remaining Orcs, I’m not going to get there in time to help. Towards the top of the slope, I pick up my discarded shield, and trudge on. When I arrive back at the shattered altar I find Makri standing over the bodies of three dead Orcs. Lisutaris is by her side. Very incongruously, Makri grins.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You will throw down your shield and flee.“
I look at my shield. I did discard it, I suppose.
“I told you it might not be such a bad oracle,” says Lisutaris.
“That High Priestess really knows her business,” says Makri. “I wonder when I’m becoming queen?”
I’m no longer sure what I think about the High Priestess’s utterances. I wonder what she meant by 'new shoes can hide old shoes.' I’d like to think about that, though there’s no time to ponder it now.
Lisutaris is studying the huge troll. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Maybe Deeziz made it.”
“It was sorcerously enhanced, obviously,” says Makri. “A humanoid can’t grow that big, not naturally anyway. It’s muscles wouldn’t support it. The square-cube law means that as the body grows, the strength required for - ”
“I already knew that,” I say, interrupting.
Makri looks offended. “You might have let me finish.”
I turn to Lisutaris. “I told you this was a bad idea. Deeziz must have followed us. She’s ambushed us again. You were almost killed.”
“I have complete confidence in my bodyguard and chief security officer. You protected me,
didn’t you?”
“We were lucky.”
“I disagree. We coped with adversity. And now, having received my oracle, we have to get back as quickly as possible.” Lisutaris produces her magic purse. She expands the purse’s mouth till it’s once more large enough to step into.
I stare at it without enthusiasm. “Do we have to go through that thing again? We’re not that far from camp, we could walk.”
“We need to get back there instantly,” says the sorcerer. “We’ll be travelling faster this time.”
“Faster? You mean like Tirini when she almost killed herself?”
“Yes.”
“Any reason to think it won’t kill us?”
“I’m more powerful than Tirini.”
“Normally. But you’ve used up all your sorcery.”
“Captain Thraxas, stop complaining and get into the purse. Ensign Makri, prepare for a rapid journey.”
I doubt that Makri’s much keener than I am to take another excursion through the magic space but she doesn’t protest. We follow Lisutaris back into the magic space.
“Do we have to take the same route - ” I begin, but I don’t get any further. Lisutaris snaps her fingers and we’re immediately dragged through the air at incredible speed, a journey so rapid that it’s almost impossible to see where we’re going. Raindrops pound against my face like rocks. We go down the side of a mountain like an avalanche. At one point I think I bounce off a troll. In less than a minute I find myself lying face down on the ground, aching everywhere.