Blow Out the Candle When You Leave (Misplaced Mercenaries Book 2) by Kevin Pettway

Author:Kevin Pettway [Pettway, Kevin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951445041
Publisher: Cursed Dragon Ship Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-07-07T04:00:00+00:00

26

CAN’T USE THIS WELCOME. IT’S ALREADY WORN OUT

SARAH

It only took a few minutes for Sarah, Cassius, and Grohann to make their way to Old Stone’s massive hut. Unlike the rest, it was built of several rooms and included a large main hall in the northern fashion. It occurred to Sarah that the Big Folk, though they lived in Oulan which was primarily a Darrish nation, spoke a form of pidgin Andosh rather than either Darrish or the full troll language of the Northern Troll Coast.

The Kyrrvatin were a long way from their ancestral homes.

As they neared the hut, more and more warriors watched them from the shadows. Sarah wanted to ask about their horns, which turned up like cattle, curved backward like rams, or grew antlered like hreinndyr. There seemed no rhyme or reason to them. She noticed that the warriors bore a series of uniform scars on their shoulders. The older ones had more.

She did not want to ask about those.

A quartet of large fighters quieted to watch the three pass, malice evident on their big faces. It was creepy.

At the open doorway slouched an ancient troll hag of surpassing ugliness. Back stooped, she stood less than seven feet tall, and scattered bits of dirty white hair and rags hung from her gaunt and pock-marked frame. Her head rose when the trio approached, milky eyes blindly assessing the situation.

The way her pustule-covered skin flapped off of her bones, Sarah thought the troll might have been composed entirely of wattle.

“Cassioos,” she said. Her voice was rancid steam hissing from broken rock. “Yoo have tribute to pay to Old Stone, maybe?” The withered thing held out a hand, which Cassius accepted, calmly brought to his face, and licked palm to fingertips.

Sarah’s stomach flip-flopped.

“I do,” Cassius said. “It is good to see you again, Hajash.”

This was the whisperer Cassius warned them about. She looked as horrifying as he had described.

Hajash smiled at this, what teeth she had left blackened and rotting. Even her gums were patchy and discolored. She gave a hoarse, coughing chuckle.

“Cassioos the flatterer. I think Cassioos has an evil tongue.”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me most,” Cassius said, that same easy smile on his face.

“Hmm,” Hajash said. “Tell nice Hajash, Cassioos. Tell the vords. Prove that ve are both sitting on the same side of the storm.”

“We all serve the Anger Under the Snow,” Cassius replied, easy and breezy, as if he chatted up some pretty barmaid.

Hajash gestured and indicated they should enter the darkened hall. As they did, Sarah whispered in Cassius’s ear.

“What was all that ‘storm and anger’ stuff about?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Cassius replied.

Dim torches guttered in wall sconces and provided more smoke than light in the hot, humid air.

At the far end, flanked by a pair of barrel-chested warriors, reclined the most enormous troll Sarah had ever seen. It lay draped across a huge chair made from the trunks of several trees, large bellied and even larger shouldered. He was naked except for a loincloth.

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