Scholar of Magic by Michael G. Manning

Author:Michael G. Manning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: school, fantasy, magic, ancient, sorcery, wizard, sword
Publisher: Michael G. Manning

Chapter 30

“You speak my language?” Will asked after gaping at the chieftain for a long period. It was a stupid question. He realized that even as he asked it, but his mouth wasn’t strictly tethered to the rational part of his brain at the moment.

“A little,” said the troll, squeezing two of his fingers together in a gesture that seemed far too human-like. “Long time.”

“Clegg is the one that taught me their language,” offered the ring.

Will glared at his hand as though he might cut it off himself, but it was the ring that his ire was focused on. “You! When we get out of here, I’m not talking to you anymore.”

“At least you’re not dumb enough to try that while we’re here,” said Arrogan approvingly. “Besides, I didn’t lie to you. Everything I said was the truth.”

“But you knew Clegg wasn’t going to insist on taking my arm!” A series of fresh coughs came from Clegg at that remark, fresh laughter. “What about last time? When they chased me out of here? Was that a joke too?”

“Lrmeg have bad temper. Always talk to Clegg,” suggested the chieftain.

“He’s right,” agreed the ring. “You probably would have been torn apart. That’s why this plan was so much better, and funnier. By the way, Clegg is quite intelligent. He understands I’m in the ring now.”

“I see that,” said Will, then he dipped his head respectfully toward the troll. “If you taught Arrogan your language, who taught you ours?”

“Old wizard, long ago. He was Lanthel, first troll friend. ‘Gan is last troll friend.”

‘Gan, that must be short for Arrogan. “How long ago was this?” asked Will.

Clegg scratched his head. “Very long.”

“Lanthel wasn’t in favor of the scorched-earth policy back when they were driving back the troll hordes,” Arrogan informed him. “He made contact with Clegg and managed to convince the last tribe in our world to relocate voluntarily. Since then, the council maintained contact with them for diplomatic reasons. I was the last ambassador appointed before the Terabinian War for Independence.”

“You knew Lanthel?”

“No, that was over a thousand years before I was born. I just happened to be the last wizard who handled our contact with Muskeglun before—well, before everything went to hell,” explained the ring.

Will nodded, swallowing as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. “So Clegg is somewhere around two thousand years old?”

“Who knows?” admitted Arrogan. “He was old before Lanthel first met him, supposedly, but whether that was fifty years or five thousand years, no one can say.”

Clegg smiled, showing a multitude of dark, stained teeth. “We don’t count many. The years mean little.” Lrmeg leaned in, making an odd series of sounds. The chieftain translated for Will, “Enough talk. Time for drink.”

Will produced the first butt of ale, causing it to appear atop the heavy wooden trunk section. The trolls didn’t bother tapping it the usual way. Lrmeg moved up beside the massive barrel and with one heavy fist knocked the top end into the keg, then pulled it out.

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