Trolled: The Complete Saga (The Trolled Saga) by D.K. Bussell

Author:D.K. Bussell [Bussell, D.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Genre Reader
Published: 2017-04-04T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Two: House Rule

THIS WAS THE second time Nat Lawler had been granted audience with His Royal Lowness, the Dwarf King. She wasn’t dressed in shackles this time, nor was she being marched at swordpoint, but she was no less nervous for it. Though she’d been formally invited to meet the king on this occasion, the manner in which she chose her words would prove no less important now than when she were his prisoner. More important even. For though she’d come to kneel before him and ask for his help once more, this time the ask was so much bigger.

Nat and her fellow humans filed into the throne room. Five had crossed the veil to The Broken Lands, and now only three remained. With Clive a defector and Terry kidnapped, all that remained were Nat, Ashley and Neville. One might have considered this an occasion for mourning, but the dwarves hadn’t invited the humans to join them so they could lament their losses. They’d invited them to celebrate their successes.

The chamber’s gallery was stocked with cheering dwarves; well-wishers applauding their honoured guests this time, not soldiers with crossbows pointed at their hearts. Nat and her crew were treated to a rapturous reception. A hero’s welcome. The dwarf with the axe-shaped beard, who they now knew as Rundal, cheered the loudest upon their entrance, clapping his calloused hands and slapping them playfully on the rumps as they passed him by. Galanthre and her brother Eathon were stood among the dwarves too, and though they towered above the under-dwellers, the two races behaved as allies now. Bonded by blood and by sacrifice.

Nat soaked in the applause then took her spot before the king’s cobalt throne. She made a sweeping bow and winced as her tender ribs creaked beneath her breast.

“Welcome,” said the dwarf king, throwing up his hands and setting his great tummy wobbling. “Thou ar ‘ere today t’ receive ahr thanks. Ye fought bravely ‘n’ wit’ cunnin’. Ye banished t’ intruders ‘n’ saved ahr ‘ome. ‘Cause of ye, t’ dwarves ‘n’ t’ elves are united. Livin’ as one in t’ belly o’ t’ earth.”

He clicked his sausage link fingers and a tiny dwarf entered the chamber pushing a large trolley. It was Tidbit, the beardless engineer whose technological know-how had helped turn the tide of their great battle. Upon his trolley lay a suit of fine plate armour, built for a woman. The suit ran from head to toe and was made of overlapping pieces of polished iron fastened by straps of full-grain leather. It was quite unlike anything Nat had seen before. That’s not to say she was a stranger to images of fighting women, having seen plenty on the posters tacked to Terry’s bedroom wall. Those fighting women tended to favour suggestiveness over protection though, preferring to battle in chainmail bikinis and teeny lambskin panties. This was something else. Tidbit had built this armour for combat, not a teenager’s spank bank.

“For me?” Nat asked, approaching the dwarf’s trolley.

“Ye earned it,” replied Tidbit.

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