The Butcher of Gadobhra

Chapter 335: Congenial Conversation

Chapter 335: Congenial Conversation

"So you can see that everything is going to depend on location. My great-grand'ther used to say, "The three most important things for a successful bridge are location, location, and location." He's been gone these last three centuries, but his words still come back to me. When I was a young brigand roaming from bridge to bridge, I used to think the old guy wasn't that smart. Ninety years later, when I gave up the folly of youth, I was amazed to find out how much the old boy had learned."

"Firstly, you need a place that needs a bridge. If you build one in a wheat field, it will be a curiosity but not support your family. You need a place that calls out to you and has those rare, natural attributes that lend themselves to bridges."

Suzette was sitting in front of the troll, who was named Cogswallow, listening to his tail of bridgebuilding. "Like a deep ravine or a river?"

The troll smiled and patted her on the head. "Exactly right. My, you are catching onto the theory quickly. My bridge has both those features, which eliminates many of the ways travelers might shirk their responsibilities to paying a toll. Up until now, I had only two types of tolls: Gold or a challenge to battle. I'm delighted to add polite conversation as a third way of paying. I might even be able to start a trend. So exciting.

"But I'm losing the theme; thank you for reminding me. The second part of the location is to be on a well-traveled route. Hard to feed the family if no one stops by now and then. Ideally, the travelers are well off or prone to violence. The third part of finding a good location is scouting for a source of suitable raw materials. As you can see, I don't lack for large boulders in this area. And that completes the list of things needed for a good bridge."

"As darkness had fallen, the Cogswallow had cupped his hands and blew into them, producing a sound like a deep horn. Within a minute, his family had joined them. The two younger trolls, barely into their 30s and only ten feet tall, carried over a deadfall and broke the wood down to build a fire. His wife, Nithopathia, climbed the cliff with a cauldron of water and put it on the fire. Carrots, onions, and other vegetables of unknown type went into the cauldron, along with three large round stones. The stone soup was served in carved wooden bowels that could hold over a gallon and large spoons of similar size. The conversation continued into the night.

"…and then there is the economics of tossing knights off the bridge. You have to, when attacked by several, to whittle them down, but that depletes your income. Sure, I get a small fee for each knight from the kelpies in the water, but that's nothing compared to a ransom paid for a living knight and the value of the metal when sold to the dwarven foundry in the mountains...

"… why, I'd have to think on that. A sign stating my payment options and rates? It seems effective, but it takes away the thrill of discovering a customer's needs and how best to serve them...

"… the horses? Why, I leave them be if I possibly can. It's difficult if the knights strap themselves in. I was so happy when our disinformation campaign bore fruit, and saddles went out of style. We paid bards for a decade to disseminate the idea that riding bareback was a proper challenge for the best of nights. Lances are next to useless without stirrups, and it made it so much easier to separate the knight from the mount and let the horses graze in the meadow while we dealt with the rider. Some brownies come by each spring to take them into the mountains and let them roam the far meadows. A few go back to their knights, of course, a sort of Stockholm syndrome, but that's up to them, not to me...

"Sloth? Really? I've never heard of eating megatherium that way. They are generally considered a stewing animal." The conversation had turned to cooking when Cogswallow took his children and did a quick patrol, ensuring they wouldn't be disturbed by nighttime predators or ambitious rogues. Suzette had mentioned the recipe for Bear-Braised, Nine-Spice, Barbecued Megatherium, and Hot-Sloth Bacon. The trollwife had been immediately interested and took notes, scratching with a claw tip on a thin board the size of a barn door.

"Ozzy doesn't cook much if it doesn't involve grilling or smoking the meat. But he spends a lot of time making sauces and experimenting with different spices. And then he smokes or slow cooks the meat for days on end."

Nithopathia looked at the large forests surrounding them, full of huge trees. "That has me thinking. I have far too many large critters roaming around in these parts and no lack of wood. And many hungry travelers. Plus, the accursed gamers in their 'clubhouse.' Most of them are too busy taking their next turn to cook and end up eating sticks and uncooked stones."

"You'd also increase traffic to your husband's business." Ben was rapidly changing his worldview on trolls and thinking of returning someday and writing a book. Alwyn was uncharacteristically silent, pondering how many times he had jeopardized his own mounts without a thought.

The sound of heavy footsteps heralded the return of the patrol, along with the repeating chorus of Diggy Diggy Hole, a popular song sung by a group of dwarven bards named, of all things, Wind Rose.

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole

Diggy diggy hole, diggy diggy hole

I am a dwarf and I'm digging a hole

Diggy diggy hole, digging a /watch?v=34CZjsEI1yU

Nithopathia held a finger to her lips and said, "Now, not a word about a smokehouse. You know how men are. I'll need to drop hints until he ponders it and tells me about his 'great new idea.' Just easier that way. Oh, and here, I've sketched out the easiest route to get you to the Court. When you get to 'Big Rock that Splits the Forest,' you take the center path. That will take you over the three rivers that are one. Just a fancy way of saying the silly thing makes a lot of U-turns as it winds through the gorge. Show this token to the trolls on the three bridges, and they'll let you through as a favor to me. That will put you at the border to Duchess Midnight's realm."

Alwyn looked up from his brooding. "Oh, truly? That puts us near to the Court. How fortuitous that I've made her acquaintance. She'll surely grant us access to her lands, and we'll be at our journey's end a moment later."

The night passed with more conversation. Alwyn helped Twinkleberry care for their patient and then slept in the carriage. Ben tended to the horses, and Lord Hound enjoyed a large bowl of soup. Ben stayed up the entire night talking with Cogswallow while Suzette got a short nap. Breakfast was leftover stone soup. They set out in the morning, riding through the forest and looking for the distinctive rock formation. It was obvious when they got to it. Like the prow of a ship, a huge mountain pushed out from the nearby peaks and split the forest in two. The road went to the right and the left.

Ben looked at their choices. "This isn't right; I'm sure he said the middle path."

Alwyn sighed. "Tricked by a troll; I will never live this down."

Suzette rode foreword. "I'm not sure what either of you is talking about. Take this path. Ben watched as she rode into and through the ancient hardwood trees as if they weren't there. He dismounted and tried to do the same, but the trees were solid. Nor would Mudhead ride further. Alwyn tried several spells and covered each eye to no avail.

Suzette stepped back out. "Seriously, you don't see it? Close your eyes." She grabbed Ben by the hand and, from Alwyn's perspective, dragged him through a tree. The summer lord yelled for Twitterberry to put clothes over the horse's eyes. Suzette led them, one by one, through the illusion and onto the path. All except Lord Hound, who closed his eyes, sniffed and walked through himself without trouble.

The roadway was straight and uncluttered by branches or debris. After some time, it came to a series of beautiful stone bridges guarded by trolls, each larger than the last. Upon seeing the token, each became polite and talkative, requiring an hour or more to pass politely and a promise to stay longer on their return trip.

By mid-afternoon, they left the forest, and the road came to a pair of tarnished silver gates and the domain of Duchess Midnight.