The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

and that morale might depend a great deal on the words the others heard them speak. He leaned close and dropped to a whisper.

“I respect that you must keep a strong front, Rangatira,” he said. “But are you not worried? Should we not retreat?”

Ditra leaned on the wall and looked into the dale far below. The mountains hid the northern end of it from this position, but she could almost imagine them there, gathering, milling about.

Preparing to sweep down upon her people and kill them all.

“We do not retreat,” she said loudly. “Kahaunga is our home.”

Maia looked frustrated, but still he kept his voice low. “A corpse is not comforted that it lies in the same place it dwelled when alive. We cannot hope to hold against a pack so large.”

Ditra looked to him. “Do you not see?” she said, lowering her voice to match his. “It is too late for that. Kahaunga is not only our home, it is our best hope. We can defend ourselves on these walls. If we retreat, and they attack us on the road, we will be helpless. We will fight here, and we will win here, or we will die here.”

He looked away, eyes flicking back and forth as he surveyed the dale. “What if we order an evacuation of the most vulnerable? Tell all those who cannot fight to leave, while the rest of us hold off the trolls to cover their retreat.”

Ditra considered it. The Telfer stronghold could contain a third of the city at most, and that would be an exceptionally tight fit. There would be folk on cots in the cells of her dungeon.

The dungeon. Mag and I crossed her mind. She forced the thought away.

“Do it,” she said. “Everyone in Kahaunga who can pick up a weapon must join us here in the stronghold, especially those who can shoot. We will hold against the trolls as long as we can. All other citizens must make for the pass west out of the mountains.”

He straightened, relief plain on his face. “Yes, Rangatira.” He turned to the others. “You heard her. Order the evacuation.”

Ditra turned her attention back to the city below. This is why Mother was so cold, she thought. One must be hard to be a Telfer.

But as she saw Maia looking at her out of the corner of his eye, she felt a flicker of doubt that she did not think our mother ever had.

Dotag stood on a hillock, observing the trolls as they gathered before him.

Two hundreds. No one had ever commanded a pack so large.

He felt nervous. He felt sick. A doubt was in him now, one he could no longer suppress. No one had ever commanded this many trolls—and no trolls had attacked human lands, as they were about to do. Not since the days trolls first came into these mountains.

That should have been a comforting thought—that he was following in the footsteps of his ancient forefathers. But it only made him more nervous, increasing his misgivings until he felt as though he wanted to vomit.

He looked down and saw Apok. She was staring up at him, not moving, not blinking. His doubt increased tenfold, fear creeping in at the edges of it. He thought of Chok’s broken body as he dragged it out of the Shade stronghold, and quickly he tried to think of something else.

Then a commotion caught his attention. As the trolls milled about, moving in great swirls and spreading out across the open turf, a path opened between them. Down that path lumbered Gatak. Trolls gave way before her, and the pack closed again behind her. She was headed straight towards Dotag’s hillock.

All of Dotag’s fears vanished in an instant. Gatak had come. Just as she had said she would.

Mayhap everything else she had promised would come true as well.

Gatak joined him on the hillock. She turned back and looked over the trolls. They covered the ground, a small plateau at the northern end of the Kahaunga valley.

“I thought there would be more,” she said, sounding vaguely disappointed.

Dotag felt somewhat crestfallen. “We are enough. We will drive the humans out. And then all the mountains will be ours.”

Gatak turned to him, her ears rising in anticipation. “Then do it.”

We had spent an uncomfortable night in our cell—or at least, Mag and I had. Dryleaf, of course, had his mattress. But his snoring had kept the two of us awake, which had not been helped by our hard cots. I understood why the old man had complained. I had spent much of the day dozing, trying to gain what extra rest I could.

But I shot awake when the horns sounded.

“What was that?” said Mag, looking towards the ceiling.

“You have never heard horns before?” I said.

“Is it the trolls?”

“It has to be.”

We sat in silence. I did not know what to do. Dryleaf bowed his head with a frown, seeming deep in thought. My hands clenched into fists and then relaxed, over and over. Mag’s gaze wandered as though she was considering something, replaying events in her head.

A door crashed open at one end of the hallway, and a guard rushed past us. At the last moment I recognized her as the one who had spoken to Mag yesterday.

“Wait!”

She skidded to a halt, looking at us with wide, frightened eyes. “I cannot—”

“What is happening?” I said, gripping the bars.

“Trolls,” she said. “They have gathered in the dale to attack the city.”

“How many?”

Her face went a shade paler. “Many.”

“Let me out,” said Mag. “You know who I am. My friend here is just as remarkable.”

I thought privately that that was a tremendous lie, but I was not going to countermand her just then. The guard hesitated. But she shook her head. “I cannot. I am sorry.”

“But if you—”

She ran on, rushing through the door at the other end of the hall.

Dryleaf sighed and stood. He shuffled towards the two of us, hand outstretched. “It sounds as though things are