Mary Anne Gruen - The House of Red

Red Riding Hood the Third had survived the torture of the trolls as well as could be expected. But Burly was very disappointed that she had no secrets to give them because she’d never involved herself much with the Council of the Nine Kingdoms. Her personal fortune had been confiscated and all her jewels and leather goods. But her clothes weren’t of any interest to the trolls. After all, red is not what you’d call a troll color.

The former queen was now a broken woman. Everything that had held her life together was gone. And her body was weak from the torture and lack of food and water. If not for the presence of her faithful secretary, she would have willed herself to die.

Ichabod sat near the edge of his cell encouraging her to go on for his sake and the sake of the whole kingdom. “When this war is done,” he said, “people will need to see you back on the throne, leading them in the healing of our country.”

“But I need to heal myself,” she croaked in a whisper.

“You will. And your people will see that. It will give them strength to do their own healing. Your Majesty, they need you to go on. You must not give up.”

“I would if not for you,” Red said. She was curled up against the bars of her cage. Her beautiful red hair now dangled dully around her shoulders. Her dress was in tatters. She imagined that she looked worse than Cinderella ever did in the rags her stepmother forced her to wear. “Where do you find your strength?” she asked.

“From you, your Majesty,” he said simply. “The rest of the kingdom will need to do the same.”

At that point they heard the rattling of keys and the sound of troll voices. The troll with the tall lace boots and long knotted hair was back with an associate. “Well,” the booted troll said. “And how is your Majesty feeling today? Good? Glad to hear it. You need to be in good shape for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Ichabod asked.

“Tomorrow Prince Burly is having an afternoon barbecue and the Queen here is the guest of honor. Everyone from miles around is coming.”

Ichabod’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

The troll swaggered over to Ichabod’s cell. “I mean, we’re gonna roast your lady friend here.”

“No!”

“And when she’s gone, Prince Burly will officially announce himself as King of the troll nation.”

“No! Don’t listen to him, your Majesty!” Ichabod called. “It won’t happen.”

“Oh, but it will. And since you’re full of energy, you’ll be of use to us. We need a lot of fire wood, you know.” The troll unlocked the door of Ichabod’s cell and motioned for his aide to take him. Ichabod struggled, but he didn’t have much strength.

“No!” Ichabod called as they led him away. “Don’t worry your Majesty. I won’t let them do it!”

Red watched him go, reaching feebly through the bars to touch him as he passed. She came within an inch of his torn shirtsleeve, but could get no farther.

The booted troll and his partner brought Ichabod to the woods in front of the castle. Many of the local townspeople were already there. They were being forced to gather wood and pile it in the square in front of the castle around a great stake. A troop of armed trolls were overseeing the work.

The trolls released Ichabod and stood back to watch the fun. He immediately began urging his fellow countrymen to rise up against their oppressors and save the Queen. “We’ve got to refuse to do this,” he urged them. “Even at the cost of our own lives.”

But the townspeople turned away. Most of them wouldn’t even speak to him.

“The trolls have won,” one of them said, “Why fight it?”

“Why?” Ichabod asked incredulously. “Because she’s our Queen.”

“Look,” one young woman whispered, “The Queen’s all right and all. But we’re trying to survive here.”

“Yeah,” someone else said, “we’ve had enough fighting.”

Ichabod couldn’t believe his ears. And the trolls were enjoying it. Beating down your opponents till they had no fight left was the best part of going to war as far as the troll were concerned.

“Hey, Hero!” the booted troll laughed. “What’sa matter? Nobody wants to help you?” The trolls laughed some more. Then they made Ichabod join the supervised gangs as they traveled back and forth into the woods.

Ichabod was disappointed, but not beaten. He made a plan for himself. Sometime after nightfall, he saw his chance and he made a break for it. The full moon was two days away, but even so the woods of the Second Kingdom were easily deep enough with their evergreens and bare sugar maples to shield someone as thin as Ichabod. The trouble would be in crossing from the Second Kingdom into the Fourth. He would have to pass through the battle lines of the trolls. And that would be dangerous.