Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,198

trolls exited through his home in Barrowden, they’d have to march all the way to Myrsta—a trip that would almost certainly take more than a week and could reasonably be expected to take two weeks or even longer. He wasn’t certain how fast trolls could march for extended periods.

Clegg spoke up, breaking his train of thought. “Myrsta is not problem with wizard to help. Payment is the problem.”

It only took Will a moment to figure out what the elder troll meant. He already knew there were other congruence points between Muskeglun and Hercynia, he just didn’t happen to know where any of the other were. Obviously, Clegg did, and one of them must be useful for getting to Darrow. But what can I offer them? Will was rich now, so one idea presented itself immediately. “I can give you as much wine or ale as you want.”

“Drink never last,” said Clegg, waving a hand dismissively. “Not worth our lives.”

“I can keep bringing it. Every week, as much as you want, for years.”

The old troll’s gaze became menacing. Leaning down, he brought one eye close to Will’s face. “Your life worth that? You trade it for wine?”

Will blanched.

“Maybe you think your life worth more, but not troll’s?”

“I’m sorry,” said Will, realizing his mistake. “My offer was offensive. I’m desperate and I can’t think of anything else, but I have to try. If there’s anything I can give you, please tell me.”

Lrmeg raised his voice, barking out a long sentence in troll. Will had learned a small amount of trollish, but not enough to understand the gist of his meaning. “What did he say?” he whispered to the ring.

Arrogan whispered back, “That the demons are weak and they should take the wine. He thinks Clegg is being too cautious.”

Clegg rebuked the senior troll, then turned his attention back to Will. “Life for a life.”

Unsure where the chieftain was going, Will nodded hesitantly. “That’s true.”

The ancient troll stared at him with an evil gleam in his eye. “No, Grak-Murra—this is the trade. You pay a life for each troll.”

“You want me to trade humans to you? I can’t do that,” protested Will.

Clegg laughed, then pointed at Will’s troll son. “Gan very smart.”

The ring exclaimed loudly, “That’s disgusting!”

Still confused, Will asked the ring, “What does he mean?”

Before Arrogan could respond, Clegg answered for himself. “Troll children are more than their father. They receive blessings from the flesh that make them.” He pointed at Gan once more. “Gan knows many words for young troll child. Wizard smart, Gan is smart. See hat?”

Will stared at Gan and finally understood the meaning of the troll’s odd headwear. It’s a makeshift wizard hat. At the same time, he realized what Clegg wanted in exchange for troll warriors to fight against the demons. His stomach turned over, and he fought to keep from expelling the oatcakes he had eaten just an hour ago.

For once, even the ring didn’t laugh. “By the Mother! You know what he’s talking about, don’t you, Will?”

He tried to swallow, which was difficult because his mouth had gone dry. “Yeah.”

“Screw the world,” said Arrogan. “I say find a new one. I can help you with that. You can get Selene and Erisa and whoever else you want to save and take them somewhere safe. Nobody will blame you.”

“How good are troll warriors?” asked Will. “Do you think they could take on a demon-lord?”

“Absolutely horrifying in battle, and no,” replied Arrogan. “Although it would be fun to watch.”

Clegg smiled, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. “If no wizards, no fire, trolls kill anything, fae, demon, elf, man, or beast.” He poked a long claw into Will’s chest. “You stop magic, troll kill anything.”

“How many do you think we need?” asked Will. At the same time, he was mentally working out the mechanics. Calves, thighs, upper arms—that would be six. Ten would be better, though. Maybe two per thigh and calf?

“You’re serious?” exclaimed the ring.

Will deactivated the limnthal. “Just to be clear. You’re sending adult trolls, not the new ones, right?”

“Yes,” said Clegg. “Lrmeg and Gan will go for free. Other troll warriors will go, one life for one warrior.”

He felt remarkably calm, although he was beginning to notice a faint tremor in one leg. Damn, this is going to hurt. “I’ll need to drink first—no, scratch that. I’ll need to get some medicine.” Will was pretty sure his mother would have tincture of poppies. He just needed to borrow it without letting her know the