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

“We harmed no one, I promise you,” I said.

“And we just saved a squadron of your soldiers,” added Mag.

Ditra’s gaze flashed to her. “What?”

“A troll pursued them into this square,” I said. “Mag held it off while I used oil and fire upon it.”

Sheer shock seemed to wipe the anger from Ditra’s face. “You faced a troll alone?”

I watched as Mag struggled not to look haughty, and she almost succeeded. “You said you have heard of me.”

A crash sounded from behind the soldiers—a fair distance away, but not far enough for comfort. Ditra glanced that way for a moment, and when she turned back, there was a resigned look upon her face.

“If you are willing to aid our fight against the trolls, I suppose I cannot turn you away,” she said. “But you will do exactly as my officers and I command, when we command it.”

“Of course.” I bowed low, and then remembered my decorum. “Rangatira.”

“Then follow us. We are pulling back to the stronghold.”

“But the trolls—” Mag began.

“Mag,” I said. She stopped short. “Do as she says.”

She cocked her head, and the corner of her lips twisted. She nodded to Ditra. “Very well, Rangatira.”

Ditra nodded and started off, and we fell into step beside her. “We cannot stop the trolls in the city,” she said. “We have given our people enough time to flee to the keep, if they mean to fight, or to the pass, if they do not. Our duty now is to consolidate our forces and hold the trolls.”

“How long do you mean to hold them?” I said.

Her eyes were grim. “As long as we can.”

Dotag stood in the middle of the burning city, his chest heaving, his breath coming out in loud snorts that turned to mist in the air. The humans had fled from their city. He had walked such a long road to get here, and now it was almost over. He could hardly have dreamed that he would be here one day, standing triumphant among the wreckage of the humans’ homes, leading a pack greater than any troll had ever commanded.

He roared, throwing his head back and slamming his fists into his chest. Several trolls around him recoiled at the sound of his voice, but when they saw him celebrating their victory, they raised their voices in chorus with his.

At last he subsided as one of the trolls brought him a handful of crops pillaged from one of the human’s homes. It was only the first of many tributes he would receive tonight. With a pack of two hundreds, Dotag could hardly imagine the mountain of goods that would be brought before him, for him to pick and choose from, sharing the tastiest morsels with—

Dotag stopped. His brows drew together, lowering over beady eyes as he swung back and forth, searching his surroundings.

Where had Gatak gone?

We made our way to the stronghold and found the gates open. Ditra’s company was the last to return, and the guards on the wall looked relieved when she ordered them to close the gates after we had entered. She had ordered the rest of her troops to divide and make their way back through the city piecemeal, like the squadron we had rescued before meeting her. The rangers had held the trolls off as long as they could to give the rest time to get away.

The moment we had entered the keep, Ditra turned to Maia. “Summon my councilors to the audience chamber immediately.”

“At once, Rangatira.” Maia gave us a half-smile and a quick nod before darting off to do as she said. It left the three of us standing in the center of the bailey, crowds milling around us, while Ditra studied Mag and me.

“If you would like—” I began.

“What? You could attend my council?” said Ditra. “How very magnanimous of you. But I do not require the advice of prisoners pressed into service for battle.”

“We could save lives.” I pointed back towards the city. “We already did. Rangatira,” I added, after just a moment’s too much hesitation.

“Then when it comes to battle again, I will summon you,” she said. “But you will pardon me if I do not consider your advice more useful than my advisors who have lived here their whole lives, and know our situation better.”

I bit back the argument that sprang to my lips. She was not wrong. I might have been her younger brother, but we were no longer children, and it was not my place to countermand her, no matter how I hated to hear the word useful on her lips. “As you wish, Rangatira.”

For a moment I thought I saw her expression soften. But she only turned away to stride off towards the keep.

“A shame,” said Mag. “I had hoped the prospect of nearly dying in battle might have bridged at least some of the rift between you.”

“Believe me, that was a far more civil conversation than our last,” I said. “Let us find Dryleaf and wait. Ditra may not want us to attend her council, but I want to know what is going on the second she comes out to tell everyone.”

Ditra strode into her audience chamber, pulling her leather gauntlets off. She winced as she flexed her fingers. They had gripped her axe and shield so tightly that she could hardly feel them now. For a moment she bent and uncurled them while she looked around the chamber. It had been empty of guards, but they were filing back in now as their lord prepared for her meeting.

She noticed something odd. The guards were filing in from the back of the room, from the stairway leading up to the nobility’s living quarters. They should have been out in the main bailey, directing the influx of citizens being pressed into fighting service. Ditra supposed they must have been drawn up to the walls to coordinate their defense, and taken the