My name is Marika Soleil, and I am the only child of a nobleman who lives in this country. My father has no son, so I am to be wedded to a certain third son of another noble family. However this is not what I want; I want to become a merchant!
There is no path to independence for noble women. Well, that’s not true. You can get power by marrying a powerful man, but you as a woman are just a baby machine. Once you have borne an heir your husband’s eye might wander and he might take a mistress, or even two. It goes without saying that an only daughter can never take over for the family, and so my father is marrying me off to obtain a son in law that can carry on his name.
Normally no noble son would marry into a family like mine. We have a small holding and the only thing of value is a mine that produces small amounts of mithril along with iron. Because of that we have good relations with the dwarves in the mountain range that serves as the border to our country. This also means that despite our family being remote, I am considered a good catch in marriage terms.
That said my father is bound by tradition and noblesse oblige. He has to continue the family line because his family serves as protector for this region. The only pass through these mountains goes through his territory and so he is responsible for its security. If he does not have an heir with a strong case for the title inheritance then there will be a power struggle when he dies.
Truth be told I am just the backup plan. My mother died when I was young, and she never gave my father any other children. In his defence he waited until I was eighteen until he started looking for another wife, but I still remember my mother’s face and her smile when she spoke of her love for him. How could he do that to her memory! Even if his new wife gives him a son, I want no part of it. Let him deal with his own problems.
There is one path for women to become powerful and that is through the merchant’s guild. Man or woman: they don’t care about that. As long as you properly register and pay your dues, you can rise up in the guild and become a powerful merchant. I have often laid in bed and imagined my name on a shop somewhere, with employees selling goods that I found and imported from far away.
And so I stole away, with my personal guard and my best friend, Theo. Theo has been my fencing instructor since I was eleven, and though I am a terrible student he has been kind to me. I know his feelings for me are more than friendship but until I am free and clear of my lands I won’t answer them. But when we are safe, I think I might tell Theo I love him. He is brave and strong and doesn’t have a noble name or family to complicate things.
Unfortunately for us, that won’t happen. We camped in the forest and found ourselves attacked by orcs. They came upon us and took us by surprise. The guards told me not to light a fire and cook, but I am not accustomed to rough living and wanted a little bit of hot food. Over their objections I did as I pleased. The smell likely attracted the orcs, and now we’re going to be killed. I pray they kill me too; I’ve heard terrible stories of what orcs do to women.
The fight is almost even at first. There are only four orcs, and my guard is well-trained. If one gets past, I know Theo will defend me. He takes down one and my guards kill another. But then everything gets so much worse. More orcs step into the light, and now we are hard pressed.
One of our guards bravely steps forward when an orc threatens me, and though he is armoured well the orc’s spear still finds a gap and stabs him deeply. He isn’t moving and the orcs are emboldened.
Then I hear it. A crashing sound, like something huge moving through the forest. Bursting out of the trees comes a giant figure, larger than any man I’ve ever seen. It steps into the campsite and sees us all, and stops short. I see its barklike scales and nightmarish teeth and almost collapse with fear.
“A forest troll! We’re dead for sure!” I shout, despair filling my heart. Suddenly the orcs seem the lesser threat; trolls are known to eat their food alive. What a horrific fate!
Theo is calm and collected. His experience in my father’s territory has made him strong in the face of danger. “Keep the fire between us and it! The orcs might go for the troll if they think it’s here to steal their prey!”
Of course! Trolls fear fire; they can’t heal the burns it gives them. And the orcs will see it as competition. In the best case, the orcs and troll will fight and the troll will just eat the orcs. Hope blooms in my heart and I grip the spear I picked up tightly. One of the guards, emboldened by Theo’s words, stabs an orc, but it’s not effective.
The troll roars, a long and complicated sound. The hope I felt dies and is replaced by absolute terror. I hear my death in the troll’s fury, and I imagine it biting my bones open. “No good! It’s enraged! Listen to those roars!” The troll roars again, this time looking straight at me. My blood freezes in my veins.
We have to run, but the situation won’t allow it. The troll will just chase us if we do, and the fire is our only protection. We have to hope that the monsters fight each other and that the troll is satisfied with orc flesh for its meal.
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One orc steps forward and stabs the troll with its spear. The weapon is useless against such a monster; what would kill a human will only anger a troll and will be healed in time. Perhaps the orc doesn’t know that. But the blade doesn’t bite deep and the troll, enraged by the pain, seizes the orc and throws it across the campsite. Such strength! I duck as it passes over us. It smashes into a tree and quick as a wink my guard stabs it through the throat. One less enemy to worry about.
The death of their companion galvanizes the orcs. They form a loose arrangement with one orc taking up the rear. That one eyes me and grins, its yellow teeth an enormous in the firelight. The troll singles it out and points at it, roaring a challenge. How odd, I think, with the part of my mind not yet insane with fear. Then the orcs attack.
The troll fights strangely. It is more cautious than I expected, ducking away from the spears and flinching when it is struck. Of course the wounds close right away, but the troll still seems to act like it is in danger. That lasts only for a few exchanges, and then the troll has had enough.
In a blur it seizes one of the orc’s spears and pulls the monster into its embrace. Its claws rip the orc open and blood sprays everywhere. When it throws the orc down it is a broken thing. The next orc stabs the troll in the belly, a wound that would kill any normal person. But the troll simply smashes the haft of the spear and then leaps at its enemy. Its mouth opens wide, revealing the razor teeth that trolls are known for, and then it tears open the orc’s throat.
The taste of blood kindles the troll’s fighting spirit, it seems. From there the fight is brutal. Orc after orc is slain, with their limbs torn free and their bellies ripped open. The troll doesn’t stop to eat its kills, and neither does it let the orcs flee. When they try to escape it simply runs them down and murders them with its razor-sharp talons. At one point the fight takes the troll too close to us and my guard stabs it with his spear. The troll doesn’t seem to notice the minor injury; that’s good because we don’t need its attention!
Watching it fascinates me. The troll is so violent I can’t look away. Theo tugs me around the fire, keeping me as distant from the troll as he can, and it’s a good thing he does. I would simply stand and watch if left to my own devices. I have never seen anything like it. I have seen blood and I have seen people die, but duels and tournaments are nothing like this.
The last orc, the one that stood at the back of the formation, is quivering with fear. It alone didn’t attack. It raises its hands and squeals, then points at us. The bastard is trying to buy its life with our flesh! But then it turns to flee, and that is the end. The troll crouches and then jumps, a mighty leap that ends with the orc’s head in its hand. With a powerful yank it tears the orc’s head free and throws it into the trees, then looks at us. It opens its mouth wide.
Troll teeth are like shark teeth, or so I am told. I’ve never seen a shark. They are sharp and they have multiple rows of them, and they are very valued as arrowheads and materials for weapons. This troll’s teeth are the purest white I’ve ever seen, and when it opens its mouth I see the seemingly infinite rows of teeth it hides. Still I am fascinated by it.
Our only advantage is that the fire is between us. Theo whispers to me that we still have a chance. The troll won’t cross the flame. The guard, injured and probably dead, will be our salvation. I am horrified at the thought of sacrificing our man to save ourselves. Theo soothes me. We will retreat, and the troll will—
The troll crouches again and then leaps, putting the lie to Theo’s words as it flies over the campfire, knocking over our stew pot. The flames lick its rough hide as it passes over them and it growls, but lands safely. Now it is right in front of us. Before I can pray for my soul, it jumps again, straight for us. Theo’s sword comes up, but I know it’s useless. We’re going to be eaten.
That doesn’t happen. The troll passes over us, and the only thing I feel is a breeze as it disturbs the air overhead. It crashes into the trees and I hear squeals of terror and pain followed by the roar of the troll again. This time it sounds triumphant. I shudder; I had no idea there were more orcs lurking in the dark. A glance at Theo tells me he was unaware as well. His face is pale in the firelight, but his sword doesn’t waver in his grasp. Theo is so brave. For a moment I am enthralled by him.
Theo pulls me around the fire again, but even he seems to be in despair. This troll must be stupid; it doesn’t fear fire. Our only hope is that it seems to prefer the flesh of orcs. Why else would it go for the ones that were hiding rather than just attack us?
When the troll comes out of the trees, it stands up straight and I see that it is carrying—no, wearing—something. Around its chest are two leather straps, and there is some kind of glittering thing in the straps. It steps forward, then tilts its head and growls. It points at the injured guard and growls again, tapping its chest.
“You can have him,” says Theo. I shake my head vigorously in negation but Theo whispers to me. “The troll wants to eat him and that injury is too bad to survive. Even if the troll didn’t show up and we won the fight against the orcs, we couldn’t save him without magic. It’s terrible but we have to make the decision that saves the rest of us.”
A glance at the two remaining guards show that they agree. They don’t like it either but the choice is that or dying. Theo backs away and speaks in a loud, clear voice. “You can have him. Just let us go.”
The troll surprises us. It walks over and crouches beside the guard, but just when I think it’s going to begin its horrible feast, it pulls something off its chest instead. It’s a glass vial, filled with a dark liquid. The troll gently lifts the guard to a sitting position and then begins dripping the contents of the vial into the guard’s mouth. While it does so, it yanks the broken spear from the guard’s belly. Blood flows and the troll glances down at it, but then returns to its task with the vial.
This is the strangest monster I’ve ever seen or even heard of.
The guard coughs and opens his eyes. He scrambles away, and the troll lets him go. Immediately the guard falls down again, rolling over and groaning while he fumbles with his stomach. His hands come away bloody, but I can see from here that the wound is closed. The troll gently presses him down and forces him to drink the rest of the contents of the vial.
“What are you?” I ask as I shrug away from Theo and step towards the troll. It turns to face me and shows its teeth, and I wonder if fleeing my noble obligations is not going to be the worst mistake I make in my life.