"Your duck eats meat," Gwurm observed.
I nibbled on a raw leg. "As do I, but I think we have enough to share. Would you care for one?"
Newt perked up his head. "Mistress?"
Gwurm held up his hands. "I couldn't possibly..."
"Nonsense." I tossed him the second rabbit. "I insist."
"If you insist."
He chucked the entire rabbit into his mouth, chewed once, and swallowed. One of the mysteries of troll biology is how their food gets from their mouth to their unconnected stomachs. Even witches didn't know that.
Gwurm sat on the opposite side of the fire.
"So how did you come to such a fate?" I asked.
"Simple story really. Pik and I were friends. He found the rings, talked me into putting one on, and the next thing I know, I'm robbing and terrorizing the countryside."
"What were you doing before that?"
"Robbing and terrorizing mostly I'd always done most of the terrorizing as I have a talent for it, but he handled the robbery end of things. Then came the rings, and he revealed himself for the shiftless sod he was. I'll miss him. He was my only friend."
"Not much of one," I remarked.
"True, but the best friend a troll could expect."
We sat around the campfire and didn't speak much the rest of the night. Silence didn't bother me. I'd lived in isolation all my life, and Ghastly Edna had often gone weeks without saying hardly a word. We listened to the owls and the crickets, and I counted the stars while Gwurm stared into the flames.
Logically, the undead in me should have wanted to travel after dark, but I was more content to sit back and enjoy it. It always seemed to slip away faster when I walked. When I stood still, I could imagine it might last forever.
Gwurm stretched. The gaps in his joints showed just a bit. "Falling apart always tires me out. Think I'll get some sleep. Good night."
The troll hunched over in a tight ball of crossed limbs and stooped head. It looked uncomfortable, but he was already asleep. He snored softly.
" Why'd you feed him?" Newt said.
"He looked hungry, and it was the polite thing to do."
"But the mistress warned you not to. Now we'll never get rid of him."
"Who says I want to be rid of him?"
Newt's feathers ruffled. "What?"
"He looked in need of a friend. Especially since you killed his last one."
"You can't be serious."
"Why not?"
"Are you blind? He's a troll."
"And I'm a witch. And you're a duck."
"Yes, yes, but . . ."
"Newt, are you jealous?"
He ruffled again.
I stroked the brown feathers down his back. "You've nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried. And I'm not jealous."
"No, no. Certainly not."
Newt curled up on the spot and rested his head on my leg. "Jealous. The entire notion is absurd. Although I don't see what you could possibly want with a troll when you've already been blessed with an accomplished familiar."
He fell asleep, but I wasn't tired. The fire died, and I sat in the cool dark with Newt snuggled beside me and my new troll dozing across from me.
I
'd helped a forest
and gained a troll. Small deeds, but not bad for my first day as my own witch. The world, what little I had seen of it, was not so frightening a place, and when the dawn finally came, I found myself looking forward to the second.
Gwurm didn't speak much, but I'd never actually had someone to talk to before. I'd always been Ghastly Edna's listener. Now that I finally had a listener of my own, I discovered I had much to say. It didn't take long to tell him the details of my life. I spoke of Nasty Larry's curse, my parents' cellar, my schooling with Ghastly Edna, and her murder at the hands of men who had not been men. The tale spilled from my lips in a steady flow, and though I sensed a lack of interest on Gwurm's part, he was a polite listener.
The troll plucked off his ear and cleaned out some wax. "If I understand correctly, you're ageless, practically invulnerable, and forever beautiful. But you must eat raw meat and don't like the sun." He blew in the ear and dug some crust from the lobe. "I don't mean to belittle your situation, but it doesn't seem like much of a curse."
"I don't want to be beautiful."
"And I don't want to be reviled and feared."
Newt chimed in. "And I'd rather not have been a duck."
"Exactly. We are all given lots we would rather not have. Not that I'm complaining. There are many things I like about being a troll."
"There's nothing good about being a duck."
"It must be nice to fly."
Newt grumbled. "I can't fly."
"Oh. Swimming?"
"I don't like deep water."
"Sorry to hear that." The troll plugged the ear back in place. "In any case, none of us are true masters of our fate. Not the beginning of it anyway, and it seems to me that I was born under a worse curse than you."
"Perhaps," I agreed.
Not long after coming under Ghastly Edna's charge, I'd made the same observation. My mistress had quickly corrected me on that.
"Always remember, girl, that magic is aware. All things are in some fashion. Even those things we cannot touch like the wind, and the seasons, and gravity. But nothing is quite as aware as the magic. It plays with wizards and witches and magi, and make no mistake. It is we who serve the magic, not the other way around. And it will brook no disrespect. Always remember that your curse, while not terrible,
is
still a curse. Should you ever come to think of it as a gift, the magic will waste no time correcting you on this notion."
I couldn't claim to understand exactly what she'd meant by this, but I heeded the advice. I did not despise my curse, but I never considered it a blessing.
"Are you certain this road is the way to your destiny?" Gwurm asked.
"Your destiny is always wherever you go," I replied. "Usually a day or two ahead of you," I added because it seemed a witchly turn of phrase.
He shrugged. "If we keep going this way, we'll reach a settlement of men by late afternoon. Pik and I didn't go near it. It's a garrison town."
A nagging desire to see this town came to me. We are all separated from everything else by mere dollops of space and teaspoons of happenstance. This town was but a day-and-a-half journey from my woods, but I hadn't ever considered it might be.
Ghastly Edna had described several towns for she had been to many, though all long before I'd known her. They seemed fantastic places full of the virtues and blunders of men. I knew the ways of nature and magic well, but I really understood nothing of civilization. It was terrifying, in a way I was unaccustomed, to not know what to expect, but exciting as well. It could be easy, even for witches, to become too comfortable with their place in the world. But being a good witch meant exploring not just the realms of magic, but of strange civilization.
Whether it was witchliness or simple curiosity that spurred me onward, I couldn't clearly say. But there was no denying my anticipation, though I hid it from my companions. I wanted to see this town. More importantly, I needed to see it.
It proved a disappointment. It was not a town, but rather a town-to-be. The half-finished fort sat in a grassy plain. A host of tents and temporary dwellings encircled it. A great many people milled about. They set off a touch of fear in me. Though I knew that there were real towns and cities where thousands upon thousands lived, this was the most I'd ever seen. I wanted to slink away and return under cover of dark ness, perhaps to steal a dog or a plump child for my supper.
"Oh, dear," I remarked.
"What?" Newt asked.
"I have an appetite for human flesh."
"And you're just discovering this now?"
I had spent much my life in isolation, but I'd never wanted to eat any of the people I'd met yet. There was something about this settlement and all its people. They triggered a long dormant predator in me, a desire to thin the herd.
"That certainly is a curse," Gwurm said. "Humans taste awful. I've only eaten one. Just a leg. I couldn't even finish it. Poor meat. Stringy and very dry. Then again, that might have just been my mother's fault. She never was a very good cook."
I was not very hungry, and my unholy appetite was easy to push away. I decided to keep myself well fed while among people to minimize the temptation.
"Is this going to be a problem?" Newt said.
"I haven't killed anyone yet," I replied.
Newt sighed. "I told you. That last one was an accident."
Before venturing any closer, I extracted a promise from my familiar that there would be no further accidents. While I was not as confident about it as I would have liked, I took him at his word. In any case, he wasn't going to get better without practice, and I could think of no better place for him to get some. It also was a good way to test the strength of my own newly discovered hunger.
Just before we reached the fort, two men came out to greet us. One was fat and sweaty. He looked a poor meal. I'd never eaten anyone, but an instinct told me he'd be all chewing and very little worthwhile meat. The second was thin and even sweatier. He was more of a midday snack. Neither tempted me much. Though they were shirtless and out of uniform, their rigid posture and exact way of walking put me in the mind of military men.
Neither seemed surprised or intimidated by Gwurm. Perhaps trolls were common in the region. Or perhaps these men just didn't care.
The fat man held up a hand. "Halt! What's your business here?"
Newt ruffled. I stamped my broom to remind him of his promise.
"I have no business. I only wish to have a look around."
"You're not a prostitute, are you?"
I shook my head slowly.
"Are you sure?" The thin one wiped his face. "Because we've already got too many prostitutes as it is. Two for every man here."
"Yes," the fat man said. "And the captain has said we aren't to allow any more. Strains the local economy, such as it is."
"Leaves us broke too."
"So don't bother lying about it, because this market is saturated, and I sincerely doubt you'd be able to earn a living."
"Ralf might pay her for a roll," the thin man observed.
"Yes, certainly, Ralf might. And Wilts. He's got strange tastes too."
"And Biggs."
"Zur."
"Oh, Zur would hand over a month's pay just to have her kick him in the crotch. But he's not all there."
"And if she uses the duck, I can think of a dozen men who would chip in to see that."
The fat man sneered. "Twisted fiends."
"Twisted," the thin man agreed.
"So, do you use the duck?"
They leaned forward, eyeing Newt with slight smiles.
Newt flapped his wings and leaped to attack. Gwurm caught him midpounce and saved the soldiers' lives. The troll walked away. Newt squirmed in his grasp.
"I'm not a prostitute," I restated.
The men straightened. "Are you quite certain?"
I nodded.
Their grins vanished, and they cleared their throats. "Good. Because this is certainly no place for such depravity."
"No place," the thin one agreed.
"You're not another desperate woman looking for a husband, are you? Because I can assure you, all the men who haven't brought their families with them aren't aching for any more womanly attention. Even if it is free."
I needed to refine my act. Perhaps a bigger, more pointed hat. Or an exaggerated, withered limb. Something was missing because no one had yet to guess my trade without me telling them.
"I'm a witch."
"A witch, eh? Captain didn't say anything about witches, did he?"
"Not that I recall."
"Anything about trolls?"
"Nothing. I would have remembered. Just prostitutes."
"I guess it's all right then. So what do you do, witch?"
I leaned heavily on my broom and raised my head that one eye might glare up at them. "I commune with forbidden spirits. I speak to beasts and plants. I cast bones. I heal. I curse." I cracked a wide smile. "And I raise the dead."
"So you don't do anything with the troll then either?"
"No. Nothing with the troll."
"Pity Zur will be disappointed." They wandered back to the fort.
Gwurm returned to my side. He let go of Newt. The duck paced about in an angry circle, muttering.
"I was only going to maim them. Tear off a limb or two."
"No maiming either, Newt."
"As you command, mistress, but they were asking for it."
Gwurm chuckled. "It's easy not to kill people who don't deserve it. It's keeping from killing the people who irritate you that is the task."
I suggested that Newt had gotten enough practice not killing today He and Gwurm waited at the field's edge while I dared venture amid the bustling tents and rickety wooden constructions. The soldiers' barracks were a collection of uniform canvas tents to the east. The families camped to the north. The prostitutes sat at the south. And the merchants and tradesmen had set up a makeshift marketplace to the west. It seemed a fine seed of a village, perhaps even a respectable city one day, but right now, it was just many people gathered beneath the shadow of a half-built fort.
The stench impressed me the most. Most animals have enough sense to keep a tidy home. Men were apparently an exception. Few creatures could create such filth in such short time. Disposing of it properly would have been a trade in itself. Judging by the countless mounds of dung, rotting vegetables, and decaying meat, there weren't any such tradesmen in residence. The people didn't seem to mind, but they reeked of sweat and toil themselves, so why would they? As for myself, I found some comfort in the stench through my curse.
Walking between the tents, I sized up everyone I saw as a potential meal. I discovered I was a very particular eater. Most everyone was either too fat or too lean or too oily or too tough. There were precious few of any appeal, although there were a dozen or so that I'd have considered nibbling on under the right circumstances.
I found the most interest in the south end of town. The prostitutes came in countless varieties. Some were short and plump. Others were tall and lean. Short and lean. Tall and plump. Ugly. Pretty. Old. Young. Dark. Light. Underneath all my clothes, I was more beautiful than any. I could have made a fine living as a woman of easy virtue. Of course, as I'd never actually lain with a man, I had to wonder what might happen should I lose myself in even a brief carnal moment. As the mere thought made my mouth water, I suspected I wouldn't have much return business. My musings were interrupted by a coarse grunt.
"You there! You're new, aren't you?"
A short man emerged from one of the tents. He pulled up his pants with a scowl. He was mildly attractive with a face too chubby for his thin body and slightly crooked teeth.
My dark desires whispered, "Not bad. Suck out the eyes and save the tongue for later."
"I told the men we don't need any more prostitutes," the man grunted.
I was about to correct him on his mistake when another voice came from the same tent.
"She's not one of us. She's a witch." A woman wrapped in a blanket stepped out. She had long blond hair and a body that couldn't be hidden away so easily. She was slender without being bony every bit as beautiful as I except for a tiredness in her round face.
My inner ghoul murmured, "Very good. A morsel to be savored."
"I'm right, aren't I?" the prostitute asked.
I nodded.
"Witch? So what do you do, witch?" the soldier asked.
"I commune with forbidden spirits. I speak to the beasts and plants. I cast bones. I heal. I curse. And I raise the dead."
"Can you get rid of warts?"
"Yes. I also know of ways to treat all the minor ailments your men might catch in their off-duty hours."
He nodded. "Very good. You can stay then." He marched back into the tent, unbuckling his pants. The woman started to follow him.
"How did you know I was a witch?"
"The hat. The broom." She shrugged. "Seems obvious."
The soldier grunted from the darkened tent. "Sunrise!"
"You'll have to excuse me."
She disappeared into the tent. I was left alone, among the throng, amid the grunts and moans and laughter of prostitutes at work.
I'd only come for a look around. I hadn't planned on staying, but here was a place in need of a witch and after living so long by myself, it was time for a change. I decided to linger for a few days at least. Perhaps more. Providing I could keep Newt from killing anyone and my own accursed cravings in check.
"No one will miss one succulent little child," the dark voice whispered.
I pretended not to hear it.