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I grab a piece of chalk from my pack; I can use it to mark trees along the way, so I don’t get lost. I’m a natural in the woods and I never lose my way, but I still do it as a precaution.
The air gets chillier as I ascend, but the sun and challenge of the hike keeps me warm. It’s a lovely day, with a slight breeze that keeps me from getting too sweaty. By late afternoon, when I’m ready to stop, I’m well and truly out of civilization. Far beyond any of the marked trails and higher than I usually go on the mountain.
I find a nice clearing in some evergreens and decide to set up camp. It doesn’t take long; I’ve done this plenty of times and I don’t need much. Putting up my tent is simple, and then it’s pretty much a matter of rolling out my sleeping bag and getting settled. If it were colder, I’d gather some wood for a fire, but I don’t think it will be necessary tonight.
I eat a simple meal—nuts, a banana, a sandwich—then crawl into the tent. I grab my book light and the small, battered field guide to mountain and forest folk that I always keep in my pack.
After all, there’s a reason I’m hiking way off trail, and it’s not because I don’t like people. It’s because I’m searching for cryptids, and even though I have this book memorized, it never hurts to remind myself exactly what kind of creatures might be roaming around out here.
* * *
BRADOC
“How many of you are on your first raid?” I ask, eyeing the males lined up before me. There are fifteen of us; we make a decent-sized party, if not as large of one as I would like. Two hands go up and I nod. It’s Ekon and Tizane, young twins. They are tall and strong for their age, though, and have demonstrated good instincts. I’m not worried about their skill in this.
“We go under the cover of night,” I remind the group. “We will take all that we can: food, livestock, and most especially, the females. This is a bride hunt more than anything. Arm yourselves well and do not forget shielding. The Galkaj tribe will be furious and savage at our attack. We have only our skills and the element of surprise in our favor.”
It is never wise to go into battle with arrogance. Confidence, yes; we must believe that we will succeed. We are proud warriors, but so are our enemies. Cockiness could be our downfall. It is better to be wary and alert.
“Kurzol has made it clear that he expects at least three brides to be captured in this hunt.” I relay our tribe leader’s command. “Those who demonstrate the most prowess tonight will have their pick of female.”
The men murmur among themselves; this is a prize, indeed. Troll females are notoriously rare, and our tribe has been dwindling in number because we lack wives. It’s not unheard of to marry outside our species; in fact, it’s sometimes required for our survival.
But Kurzol is a proud old troll, and he wants our tribe, the Kalzak, to remain as pure as possible. Which is why he willing to take risks like tonight’s raid.
I don’t mention that I anticipate that I will be the most successful warrior tonight. There is a reason I am the tribe’s alpha hunter and raid leader, after all.
But I am in no rush to take a wife, and there are older males in this group who have waited longer. Rokahn, for example. He is nearly forty winters old, and longs for sons of his own. Rokahn is a true friend to me, and I will see him wed if it is the last thing I do in this world.
“Prepare yourselves. We reconvene here at dusk,” I tell the group, allowing them to disperse. Raids are less common these days than they once were—trolls in general are less common than we once were—so hopefully the Galkaj tribe won’t be expecting us.
Part of me is pained by the idea of attacking other trolls, since our numbers are falling, but Kurzol’s word is final.
* * *
BRADOC
My men are waiting, armed and ready, when darkness falls. I give them a nod and move swiftly into the forest, heading northeast toward the Galkaj village. It’s several miles away, but they’re apt to have scouts patrolling in wide perimeters—we certainly do—so we’ll need to remain silent and invisible for as long as possible.
It’s not long before we enter a clearing that shows obvious signs of habitation. But not by trolls; the belongings are clearly human. I hold up a hand, signaling for my men to stop, and wait, listening carefully.
Humans are tricky creatures. They’re small and physically unthreatening, but they have dangerous technology. The men serve no purpose for us, other than food. But the women…well, trolls can always use females of a compatible species. If the human—or humans—in this clearing are women, we would be wise to take them with us.
There’s a low rasp that’s almost drowned out by the droning of the night insects. I watch carefully, and sure enough, a figure creeps out of the tent and into the trees. It slips into the shadows and I lose track of it, but not before spotting its distinctly feminine shape.
“Movement!” I call out to the men.
“What is it?” responds Tizane.
“A human female! We must capture her, but do not harm her. Fan out!”
Larzad, a seasoned hunter, looks inside the tent. “There’s no one here,” he calls out.
“Everyone be still. We will wait and see what happens,” I command.
Then men obey, freezing in place, not so much as rustling a leaf. But the woman is clever, and even with us melting into the darkness, she does not reveal her hiding place.
She is a cunning foe, something I appreciate and respect.
