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She nods. “Starving, actually. I didn’t have much to eat when I was confined with the other females, and today has been overwhelming, to say the least.”
“Tomorrow night, the village will gather for a banquet to celebrate the new unions. But tonight is reserved for us, for all those who were wed today. We will dine together, share our stories with each other, and then seal our union.”
One of her eyebrows shoots up. “Seal our union? What exactly does that mean?”
I know enough about humans to know they are not so different from trolls in this regard. “Physically. We will celebrate our marriage.”
“Are you talking about sex?” she asks.
“Of course. Is that not customary among your people as well?”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. But generally both parties are willing participants in the marriage. I don’t even know you, much less how the hell I ended up in this situation.”
At least she sounds more confused than upset by the situation, which is good. Still, her words puzzle me, and I frown. “Of course. This is why we dine and share our stories. So that we are better acquainted when we join.”
“This is normal for your people? To marry strangers?”
“Yes,” I say. “Troll women are scarce, and their numbers have been dropping for many, many seasons. No one knows why. But there are always more males in a village than females, so we must raid other villages to acquire our wives. The females understand this; they expect to be taken one day. In fact, one female may undergo many marriages over the course of her life, depending on how many raids she experiences. That is simply our way. The only way to get to know one’s mate is after the wedding.”
“Huh,” she says. “That’s wild. So the females that you captured the other day—they could get taken again? By some other tribe? And married off again?”
“Of course. Though it is unlikely. Our tribe has strong defenses, and I am an able warrior. I have trained the males well, and we are capable of defending our women. Sit down,” I tell her, pointing to the table and chairs in the corner. “I will serve you, and we can continue our talk.”
“You serve me, huh? Maybe married life isn’t so bad.” She chuckles, and it pleases me. I want her to be happy.
Our wedding meal is simple, as is the case for all our food. The women of the village baked coarse bread and prepared a thick stew for all of us who wed today, and I bring those to the table, along with two mugs of ale.
“The food is plain but hearty,” I tell her.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” she says. “I’m not picky, and like I said, I’m starving.”
As I set the table, the pleasant, steady patter of rain begins on the roof. “I will light a fire to keep us warm,” I tell her, moving to place logs in the hearth.
She smiles and sits. “Stew, a fire, and a rainy night? Very cozy.”
“I am glad you like it.”
She shrugs. “So far, so good.”
After we eat, I clear the dishes and we settle on the skins in front of the hearth. “Now we tell our stories.”
She has her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them; her entire posture suggests that she is tense and uncertain again. “While we talk, perhaps you would like another massage? If you are sore?”
“Oh, I’m definitely sore. The past few days have included a fair amount of hiking, not to mention sleeping on the ground or the floor. My muscles are crying.”
“Lie on your stomach,” I tell her. “I will begin with your back.”
She complies, stretching out in front of the fire. I begin at her shoulders, where her muscles have tightened into knots. I knead them carefully, mindful of how much stronger I am. She is so small and fragile; I must be careful not to harm her.
“What does this alpha status of yours mean?” she asks.
“It means that I am the best tracker, hunter, and raider in my tribe. It is a place of honor and comes with certain benefits. The alpha may have first choice of any game that is collected, for instance. And after a certain age, if the alpha remains unmarried, he gets first pick of a wife, which is what happened with us.”
“How long have you been the alpha?”
I work on a tight muscle in her shoulder, gratified when she makes a little sound of pleasure.
“I was only fifteen seasons old when Balkor, my tribe’s previous alpha, died. Despite my young age, I had proved myself in raids and hunts, and our tribe leader named me Balkor’s successor. I’m thirty seasons now, so I have served in this role for half my life.”
