Trolled (The Trolled Saga Book 1) Read online

  Terry.

  Where was Terry?

  Terry was nowhere to be seen.

  Nat blacked out.

  Chapter Eleven: Time Out

  DRENSILA STOOD AT the window of her minaret, which had finally been reglazed since her would-be assassin used it for an escape hatch. She’d been looking out of that window on and off for the better part of three days, desperate to hear word of her soldiers’ victory. No word had come. She remained utterly in the dark, as she had ever since that verminous human used his magic to pollute the waters of her scrying pool.

  Drensila turned the stolen telecommunications device over in her hand; the one she’d claimed from the troublesome interlopers. She was beginning to hate the sight of the thing. What use was it having the knowledge of trans-dimensional armaments if she couldn’t squash one petty insurrection?

  Outside, Drensila spied the flapping V shape of a bird headed towards the citadel. Could it be? She unlatched the window and a raven flew inside to set down on the footboard of her bed. It had finally arrived, a dispatch from the front line. Fingers twitching, Drensila untied a capsule attached to the messenger’s scrawny leg. She noticed—with some trepidation—that it didn’t bear the proper wax seal. Nonetheless, she cracked it open and scanned the message within. Her face fell almost instantly.

  “Well, what does it say?” asked Carnella.

  “It’s from the girl,” Drensila replied. “It seems she defeated my trolls and stole one of my ravens from their belongings.”

  “What’s the message?”

  “She says she’s coming here.”

  “What for?”

  “For tea and biscuits, what do you think?” Drensila screeched. “She’s coming to make reprisals.”

  She scrunched the slip of paper into a tight ball and turned to her mother. “That girl has thoroughly outworn her welcome.”

  She launched the paper ball from her minaret window and sent it spiralling into the chasm below.

  *****

  THRUNGLE HAD BEEN busy. While his fellow men were busy getting their heads lopped off he’d taken his leave, but not before taking care of a couple of loose ends.

  The first was to put Skullcap out of commission.

  Robbing him of his arm was an insult that would not go unanswered, and Thrungle had answered it the only way he knew how: underhand and at a distance. He’d had the idea of poisoning the warlord ever since he’d been demoted to his waterboy, but the means to put the plan into practice only presented itself when he came across a gland of deadly venom, found by a burned-out campfire in a pile of scorpion offal.

  The second loose end concerned his exit strategy.

  Though he’d been confident he could avoid an untimely end by slipping away in the heat of battle, he was less confident of receiving a hero’s welcome when he arrived back at the Citadel of Durkon. After all, the solitary deserter from a lost skirmish was unlikely to be rewarded with an honour parade. Not unless he returned bearing something of extreme value. Something Drensila could use to turn the tide of war in her favour. Certainly that would change his fortune considerably. Instead of being regarded as a traitor, he’d be the lone survivor of a tragic massacre. A survivor who not only fought bravely for his beloved queen, but even took the trouble to bring home a souvenir.

  That souvenir was Terry.

  Thrungle had managed to snatch him during the chaos. He’d caught the archer taking potshots, knocked him out with the butt of his dirk and slung him over his shoulder like a bale of hay. This prisoner of his, encouraged just so, would provide Drensila with all the secrets she needed to defeat the rebellion once and for all. With this pink, flabby token, Thrungle would buy his way back into the citadel and win Drensila’s favour. Perhaps even earn himself another promotion and assume the vacant post of warlord. These were exciting times. Most exciting.

  Thrungle whispered in Terry’s ear. “Change is on the wind, my friend.”

  As if by way of reply, a breeze blew through the troll’s macabre collection of necklaces, making the purloined teeth chatter ominously.

  “Change is on the wind.”

  End of Book One

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  Look out for Power Playing, the second part of the Trolled saga, coming soon!

  About the Author

  D.K. Bussell lives in East Sussex, England with her three pugs; Livingstone, Jackson and Gygax. She enjoys puzzles, baking and first person shooters.

  You can find out more about the author by visiting BussellBooks

  www.bussellbooks.com

  Dedications

  To reality: a fantastic place.

  Thank you also to Adriana Marques, Alex Musson, Leo McGuinness and Matthew Stott for their encouragement and advice.

  Special thanks to the original “party” animals, James Kennett, Andrew Rowe, James Sudlow and Luke Foster. Never forget: left is death.

  And a hearty “Well met!” to Tim Smith, Jonathan Savage and Jonathan Milburn, who truly know their way around a dungeon.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Time In

  Chapter Two: Variant Rules

  Chapter Three: Non Player Characters

  Chapter Four: Treasure Haul

  Chapter Five: Magic Potion

  Chapter Six: Critical Hits

  Chapter Seven: Bug Hunt

  Chapter Eight: Dungeon Crawl

  Chapter Nine: Disarmed

  Chapter Ten: Hack & Slash

  Chapter Eleven: Time Out

  Get Your Free Books!

  About the Author

  Dedications