Debra L. Rollins - Revenge For the Huntsman

Hunting had been pretty good. Burly had managed to trap two rabbits and seven squirrels from the forest, plus four ducks from the nearby pond where Cierce had bathed that morning. He tied them together with a length of rope by either the feet or neck and latched them onto his waist to carry them back to their campsite. He passed by a few humans on his trek, oblivious to the fact that they stared in open-mouthed horror at the menagerie on his person.

As he headed back to the grove of trees he passed the animal prison. The open gates beckoned to him; thus he entered and explored the cages in broad daylight this time. The wolves, like Cierce, had retreated into their den for a midday nap from the heat. The only animal stirring at all was a large, brilliantly plumaged bird with a loud, irritating call. It reminded him vaguely of pheasant, which he loved, so he grabbed it, wrung its neck and popped it on his line with the rest of his bounty. A couple walking with their young human stared…eyes bulging, mouths opened wide as he turned their way. They quickly whisked the crying child away yelling something about a keeper. Burly shrugged his shoulders.

Afternoon shadows were lengthening as the sun began its slow descent into the evening sky. Time to return to Cierce for she would be up soon and hungry, he hoped, proud of his hunting skills today. He exited the zoo, plucking a big handful of newly planted roses as he left, tucking them into his belt. If he had looked back he would have seen the soft petals of the beautiful, white roses fall gently to the ground as he walked back to camp.

Cierce awoke, startled for a moment at the unfamiliar canopy of trees above her instead of Madam’s cottage ceiling. She stretched, throwing off the stiffness of sleep and sat up. The smells of roasting meat sat her mouth watering and she turned her head, seeing Burly hunkering over a fire, a bird of sorts turning on a spit, browning over its flame.

“You can cook?”

Burly looked up and over at her. His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. She looked seductive laying there on her side, stretched out, head propped up, hair glistening in the lowering evening sun and firelight, turning her silver hair a coppery color.

“We Trolls hunt pretty good,” he answered finally. “None of us have starved to death yet. Here…have some fowl. I think it’s some kind of pheasant.”

They sat there, eating until content and watched as the sun made its way closer to the horizon. It was getting late, long past the time to take action against the witch and Wolf. Burly had been thinking of plans all day during the hunt and he passed them onto Cierce.

“I have been thinking,” he began, watching as she licked grease off her fingers with a little, pink tongue. Stop temptress! he moaned to himself, then began to wonder if he spoke aloud for she looked up at him with a curious look on her face.

“What’s the matter with you, Troll? You look like you’re in pain,” she asked, totally ignorant of his discomfort.

A small bit of bird stuck to one corner of her mouth. Burly was itching to reach over and… “NO!” Burly sucked in his breath as he realized where his thought pattern was leading him.

“Well!” she sniffed, turning her back on him. “There’s no need to be rude. I was only ask…”

A single white rose appeared before her, causing her lids to widen in surprise. She turned back towards him, her eyes questioning the gesture. He stooped close beside her, too close she knew, not to be unaffected by the pheromones her body gave off. She knew she should move away, to give him time to clear his head, but…she realized she didn’t want him to go.

“The flower is lovely, but why…?”

“To say I am sorry…again. I picked more but they fell apart on the way back.”

Cierce thought about his answer a moment. It didn’t make sense. He had this flower prior to snapping at her. Why? Trolls didn’t particularly seem the types to go around picking flowers for themselves. Yet… she sniffed the light fragrance of the white rose, delighting in its aroma… this rough-edged, bad-mannered Troll prince had been picking flowers. For her? She stole a look at him from under her lashes. Burly seemed fixated on her mouth. She self-consciously raised her hand, preparing to rub at any offending smudges but he stilled it with one of his own. Slowly he tilted her chin upwards and gently wiped the meat morsel from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, caressing the lush fullness of her lips with his fingers.

Cierce felt a shock run through her system, her back stiffened, her irises darkened to a deep, indigo blue and her breath became erratic. The pair pulled back, breathing heavily, then as if in slow motion she watched as Burly’s face moved in once again, closer…a determined look on his face. Her stomach wrenched. His lips now hovered over hers by an inch and she felt her lips separating of their own violation. They shouldn’t be doing this; they had a job to fulfill, not to mention the fact that they were different species. A Troll and a wolf? But, then again, it was only a kiss. A human kiss while they were human, so it really didn’t count, did it? She moved to close the distance.

“Hold it right there!” A voice yelled from the trees, causing them to jump guiltily apart. “Don’t move! You’re both under arrest!”

Five humans dressed in suits with badges, much like the guards at the Snow White Memorial Prison, stepped from the trees surrounding the camp. One human led a large, mean-looking dog on a leash, which growled menacingly at Burly.

Burly groaned in disappointment. What timing! Humans sucked Elves. He wondered how these men had found he and Cierce.

A highly agitated man in a different style of uniform with short pants came flying past the officers. He ran over to the rose Cierce held and plucked it from her hand. A sharp thorn scratched her finger, causing her to yelp in pain.

What was with this guy, wondered Burly? Did he want to live to see another day?

He moved to grab the disagreeable creature and knock his teeth in so far that even the Tooth Fairy would be unable to help him, but Cierce held him back.

“Best to see what these men want first, Burly,” she whispered. “No reason to call more attention to ourselves than need be.”

“Why are we under arrest?” she asked.

“For starters, Ma’am,” answered a slender, young man staring in appreciation at the young woman before him. “The zoo has had a vandalism of their landscaping in the last twelve hours. Namely…” he looked down at the scattering of rose petals on the ground. “Roses. There is also the report of a poacher which matches your friend’s description.” The officer looked over her shoulder at the pile of bones and skins lying on the ground by the campfire.

“Look, Mister…?”

“Officer Curry, Ma’am.”

“Well, Officer Curry…we are here visiting your fair kingdom…”

The officers, Radtke and Curry glanced at each other. Kingdom? What was she talking about?

“And my tall friend here, well…he’s a little slow…”

“Hey!” Burly barked.

“I’m afraid he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong. Was there a sign posted against poaching?”

“It’s Central Park, Ma’am. No one poaches for animals in Central Park. Plus there was a complaint of a man stealing a peacock from the park zoo. Your friend here wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now, would he?”

“I had pheasant…what’s a “peacock”?” Burly asked. These men made him nervous. His fingers itched to reach for his knife but he stayed his hand. Three of the officers, standing close by as the other two talked to Cierce, kept a careful watch on him. The dog, a large German shepherd, stood his ground, sniffing Burly’s leg with interest as if he were unsure of the Troll’s scent.

“Oh, my God! It’s Jasper!” The zookeeper cried. He ran over to a pile of bright plumage scattered on the ground, the trademark “eye” tailfeathers shining iridescently in the last of the sunlight. The keeper looked up at Burly and pointed an accusing finger.

“Murderer! You killed and ate the zoo’s only peacock! I hope you enjoyed it you…you…” the keeper was so overwhelmed by grief that he could hardly think of a fitting comment.

“Actually I did enjoy it, it tasted like chicken,” he said truthfully. “Trolls love chicken.”

“Trolls?” Officer Radtke asked. What were these two on? “Okay you two, I think we’ve heard and seen enough. Turn around, sir and put your hands behind your back. You and your lady friend here are going back to the precinct to be booked for vandalism, poaching and theft.”

Burly had enough of nicey-nice manners. He moved for his knife but three of the officers tackled him and held his face into the ground, leaving him barely any room to breathe. He was strong as any Troll, but three-to-one was too much for him. Blades of grass went up his nose, making him sneeze as he felt the coldness of handcuffs snap and lock on his wrists. He was a prisoner once more.

He felt the officers rummage through his pockets, pulling out what little Trolldust he had left and the magic mushrooms Blabberwort had given him for his quest. They even pulled out his Dwarf moss, tossing it into a plastic bag with the rest.

“Hey, Mike…looks like we have some narcotics here. Better add possession and resisting arrest to the list of charges,” Officer Curry suggested. “Let’s get him down to the precinct and empty the rest of his pockets there. It’s getting too dark to see out here well enough.”

Two officers bent down, retrieved the knife and pulled Burly to his feet none too gently while Officer Curry kept ahold of Cierce, her own wrists now tightly bound in cuffs.

Great…this really sucked Elves now, Burly thought to himself, bemoaning his own inaction earlier. Why had he listened to her? They may have had a chance to get away. Now he was going to prison…again.

Wolf slicked back his hair, patting it down as best he could. He really did need a haircut. It already brushed past his collar on the new jacket Virginia had bought for him earlier in the day for their night out. His old, blue one was frayed and stained from their adventures in the Nine Kingdoms dimensions so she had tossed it out in the trash. This one was a nice charcoal gray, long in length to assure coverage of his tail bulge from prying eyes. The last time his tail had been discovered, it was by Sally Peep and that was one bad memory he wished not to bring up again. Although, huff-puff…the fresh, young girl was succulently creamy. A juicy sausage really for…

“Wolf, are you ready?” Virginia called out.

“Nearly ready, my Love.” He took one final swipe at his hair, brushed off a minuscule piece of lint from his lovely new jacket, smiled wolfishly as his handsome face in the mirror and went to meet Virginia in the livingroom where she was waiting patiently.

“WOW! You look ravishing, Virginia!” exclaimed Wolf. He howled with delight.

Virginia felt ravishing, too. Like Wolf, she wore a new outfit that evening. The red dress fit seductively like a glove over her skin, which was more exposed than not, and she wondered aloud if it were too much.

“Yes!” spoke up her father.

“No!” Wolf scurried Virginia out the door before she could change her mind, giving Tony a look that said, “Mind your own business.”

They waited outside for the elevator to make its appearance.

“So, did you find a nice club for our night out?” Virginia inquired.

“Yes,” he answered. “It’s perfect, you’ll love it. It has it all…dinner, dancing. Grandma recommended it highly.”

“Great!” The elevator slid open and they stepped on. “Do you know where it is or should we get directions from the doorman?”

“No need for directions,” Wolf admitted. “You’re not driving.”

“Oh, we’re taking a taxi?”

The doors reopened on the ground floor, Wolf and Virginia exited before he answered her question.

“No taxi… no van for us tonight. Tonight is special. Tonight we celebrate our first date in the Tenth Kingdom.”

He allowed her to step out of the apartment building first, the doorman tipping his cap as he held open the door for them. Outside the entrance sat a luxurious limousine at the curb idling quietly. Wolf motioned her towards the vehicle.

“You’re kidding, right?” Virginia held her hands up to her mouth, delighted with the surprise.

“Huffety-puffety, Virginia, my love. Would I kid you? Tonight is a night for romance, dancing and dining.” He helped her in the limo and slid in beside her. He snapped his fingers at the driver. “To the club, driver…post-haste! We’re ravenous and the buffet starts in…” he checked his watch, “twenty minutes.”

Blabberwort and Bluebell wriggled through years of grown up vines and moss to escape the Troll Palace via the dungeons. The exit had been forgotten over decades of disuse. Anyone or anything going into the Troll dungeons very rarely came out. As young Trolls, they had played here, pretending to fight battles and dragons, occasionally learning from Relish as he tortured an Elf or perhaps some unlucky soul from Wendell’s kingdom. Such fond memories were brought back as they hurried through the dry, empty tunnels leading them to the dark of night and freedom to find their missing brother.

“We’re out!” exclaimed Blabberwort.

“And ready to take on the witch and bring our brother home,” Bluebell added. He sniffed the foul odor of beanstalk plants that grew nearby and sighed contentedly. He loved a good adventure but missed his homeland when he was away. “Which way do we go?”

“Back to the Fourth Kingdom and Wendell’s castle,” Blabberwort reasoned. “That is where we saw the witch last…that is where Burly was sure to go first.”

“Good idea! I have brought food from the kitchens and extra Trolldust. With everyone drunk, I had no problem getting past Cookie.”

Cookie was the Troll Palace cook. As Trolls went, like Bluebell, he was short in stature, but he made up for his height in girth. No one made it into his kitchens to swipe food without Cookie approving the raid. To have done so was in itself, a feat and a half that Bluebell was proud of himself.

“How’d you do with Bork?”

“Let’s just say I tired him out to the point of exhaustion, then dropped a bit of dust into his bean juice. He won’t be going anywhere or anyplace anytime soon. To make sure of it I gagged him and bound him to the bed. Even if he does manage to work the gag off, I doubt he’ll want to yell for help.”

“Why?”

“I left him in a bit of an embarrassing position. One he wouldn’t want any other Troll to see him in.”

“Ah! Goody-good idea,” snickered Bluebell at the thought.

“Come…we need to get moving as far away from here as we can before morning and before the Council Elders send troops after us.”

And as far away from her husband as possible, she thought. He wasn’t going to be in a very agreeable mood when he woke up, or very forgiving. That was for sure!

Darkness swallowed the two up quickly as they headed away from the Troll Palace and down the road in the general direction of Wendell’s castle.