Chapter Nine

After watching Hatch stride across the camp and enter his hut, it struck Legolas that he could see the doorway of the hut from where he was. That seemed to shoot down one of Aragorn’s theories that the cages couldn’t be seen from the front of the building and that may have been the reason he hadn’t seen Pickett before they slipped into the hut to search for their weapons.

The elf regarded the heat rolling off of the large central fire in waves that swung from side to side, as the wind shifted directions. Had he not known that Hatch was on the other side, the elf wouldn’t have noticed him in the heat’s distortion. That theory seemed to make more sense, so the mystery was solved to Legolas’s satisfaction. It didn’t entirely negate the fact that his pride had still taken a hit, knowing that Pickett had gone completely unseen.

Now Legolas’s undivided attention joined that of Aragorn on the hut’s doorway. Both held their breaths, fully expecting Hatch to come running out and shouting in rage. After all, inside there was an unconscious troll and an upturned bed, which had once held knives that were now missing.

When Hatch did not emerge, the two friends were totally baffled. The only disturbance in the clearing was the noisy return of the other trolls, who had been out searching for them and were now filtering back into camp.

“I don’t understand,” Aragorn commented, a slight frown on his face.

Legolas’s tone and expression were just as bewildered. “Nor do I.”

“Not even that stupid creature could miss seeing another huge troll sprawled out on the floor of his hut, not to mention his bed lying on its side. It makes no sense.”

“Look at Pickett,” Legolas said, jutting his chin toward the troll still standing in front of the cages and looking decidedly nervous.

Pickett’s face was scrunched up, clearly expecting the eruption of his leader just as the captives were. When no such reaction came, he also turned to look toward Hatch’s hut. No one was there. Pickett’s whole demeanor suddenly drained of tension. His reasoning didn’t often turn to conjecture, so if Hatch wasn’t in sight, then Pickett believed all was well.

“Perhaps the troll inside regained consciousness and left,” Legolas offered, unable to think of any other reason for Hatch’s failure to come out and demand to know what had happened. “I cannot explain the bed,” the elf said, as he shrugged his shoulders.

“It wasn’t leaning, and it was much too heavy to just fall back on its own,” Aragorn theorized. The ranger’s eyes lit up, as a possibility came to him. “Maybe the troll came to, grabbed the bed to pull himself up, and it fell back into place.” He grinned at his own logic.

“And with the bed down, Hatch would not know my knives are missing, which is a break for us,” Legolas concluded.

Ordinarily being captured by enemies would be a time to be discussing things much more serious than their current line of conversation. But until they knew what Hatch was going to do, when he finally discovered that they had been returned, there was no reason not to indulge in a little harmless speculation.

“Let’s hope that Hatch has no reason to look under his bed.”

The ranger’s hand went to the long knife tucked securely under his tunic. He still wished that Legolas hadn’t insisted he keep the blade. The words ‘stubborn elf’ came back into his mind.

Just then, Pickett let out a low groan, and both friends looked up at him. The troll had turned back their way with his head down and his shoulders hunched over. He had all the appearance of someone desperately wanting to hide and hoping his efforts to make himself look smaller would do the trick.

Looking out toward the camp, Legolas and Aragorn saw Hatch coming their way. Stomping was a more accurate description. Next to him was another troll, who was talking rapidly in Hatch’s ear while pointing in their direction.

“Peace time is over,” Aragorn said with a resigned sigh. “Things are about to get ugly, I fear.” Legolas didn’t comment, but looking at his blond friend told the ranger that he thought so, too.

Hatch made his way straight toward Pickett, his eyes boring into the hapless troll. As he reached him, the leader jerked him around by the arm and then gave him a hard backhand across the face. “Why did I have to hear from Tack that you caught the prisoners? They was here when I got back. You shoulda told me first thing.”

In pure anger, Hatch raised his hand, and Pickett leaned away, trying to avoid another strike. It didn’t do him any good, because another blow landed, this time even harder and on the smaller troll’s chin.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hatch demanded again with his face mere inches from Pickett’s.

Unable to meet his leader’s eyes, but afraid not to answer, Pickett stared at the ground beyond Hatch’s shoulder and said, “I was afraid you’d punish me ’cause they got away while I was watchin’ ’em an’...”

“An’ what?” Hatch snarled, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“I left the cage after you said don’t.” Pickett’s voice was barely above a whisper. Naively he thought by speaking very low, maybe Hatch wouldn’t hear his answer and wouldn’t bother asking him to repeat himself.

Hatch heard the explanation just fine. “Well, now you git punished twice.”

Hatch, who had not let go of Pickett’s arm, pulled open the door to the cage next to Legolas and Aragorn and shoved the other troll into it. He pushed harder than he needed to, since Pickett wasn’t about to resist. As a result, Pickett fell backwards and landed on his backside. His arms were stretched out behind him for support, so he wouldn’t topple over completely. He didn’t dare move a muscle in protest to the rough treatment, or even to register any discomfort.

Hatch then turned his attention to the elf and the ranger. The scowl he had adopted while dealing with Pickett was still firmly in place. “You two are gonna suffer for makin’ us look fer you.”

Neither captive showed any outward signs of the fear that gripped them. Trolls, they both knew, were brutal by nature, even among themselves. And when it came to tormenting captives, they were absolutely vicious. The two friends already had a painful taste of it the night before.

Turning to the troll, who had told him about the captives’ return, Hatch said, “Tack, you watch ’em. Pickett, too.” He leaned toward Tack menacingly. “An’ none of ’em better git loose.”

“They won’t,” Tack assured his leader with no trace of fear in his voice or on his face. He never did anything, or failed to do anything, that would get himself into trouble. He would never admit it, but he was intimidated by Hatch, and that’s what the leader counted on.

Nodding his approval, Hatch gave a sneering look at Legolas and Aragorn, “Have fun, you two. We’ll have ours later.” Then he turned and left.

Tack glared at the captives, as if to reinforce Hatch’s words. The troll sat down facing the cages and prepared to fulfill his assigned task. He adopted a slightly lopsided sneer that didn’t look like it was going to fade anytime soon.

Not knowing how long they had before the evening’s ordeal began, Legolas and Aragorn decided to try and rest. They needed to gather as much strength as they could. That, however, was easier thought about than done, and they both knew it.

*~*~*~*

Night had fallen and the camp was relatively quiet, as the trolls ate their evening meal. The silence was punctuated by the sounds of slurping and crunching bones, but it didn’t bear thinking about beyond that knowledge. Watching trolls feed was not something anyone not a troll would care to do.

It was Legolas who first realized that the camp had gradually become quiet. He looked out into the clearing and found that Hatch and several other trolls were coming their way. “Estel.”

“I see them,” the ranger replied somberly. “I guess they’re ready now for their after-meal entertainment.”

Hatch brushed past Tack but instead of going to the cage that held the elf and the human, he went to Pickett’s enclosure. “Git out here,” he commanded the troll within it.

Pickett, who had been sitting with his back to the other captives, got to his feet, exited the cage and stood facing his leader. Wanting to look brave, he tried not to show his fear, but he wasn’t very successful at it. He was all but physically shaking.

“It’s time fer yer punishment.” Hatch made the statement with a great deal of glee.

The troll leader turned and walked away, leaving Pickett confused as to why he was being left behind, if he was to be punished.

That puzzle was solved when two trolls grabbed his arms on either side and began dragging him after Hatch.

Legolas and Aragorn were content to stay back and watch whatever was about to unfold. However, it wasn’t surprising that the trolls had other ideas. A couple more of the large creatures soon had the two friends firmly in hand and were marching them off behind Pickett.

“I don’t think I like this,” Aragorn commented.

There was nothing to say to that statement, so Legolas didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes looking forward, hoping he could see what might lie ahead for them. Whatever the trolls were planning, they weren’t ready to reveal it.

When Pickett was taken past the fire, the trolls holding him swung him over toward it, as if they were going to throw him into it.

Pickett screamed and desperately struggled to pull back, eliciting laugher from all the others gathered around.

Seeing Pickett’s reaction to the fire gave Hatch an idea. “Stop,” he yelled out.

Everyone did stop. Even those trolls who had hold of Legolas and Aragorn became rooted to the spot where they stood.

“Make two lines along here,” the troll leader said, pointing on either side of himself from the trees to the edge of the fire.

No one was moving fast enough to suit Hatch, so he shouted, “Move”, to put everyone in motion. It became apparent very quickly that the trolls nearest the fire weren’t very keen to get too close to the flames, which had been fed more wood before their evening meal and was now roaring wildly. Hatch motioned those trolls to spread farther out, widening the path at that end to resemble a funnel.

Hatch then looked toward where Legolas, Aragorn and their guards were standing. “Stay there.”

Once the trolls were in place, Hatch himself grabbed Pickett and pulled him to the far end of the pathway between the two rows.

It was hard to tell whether Pickett knew what was coming or just feared what it might be, because he was struggling even harder than he had before.

“Go,” Hatch commanded and pointed down the path in the direction of the fire.

Pickett didn’t budge. In fact, he turned to run the other way but was stopped and abruptly turned back around. Soon he found himself being roughly shoved forward.

He was pushed along the line, as he was kicked and punched by each of the trolls that he passed. No amount of hunching over did any good. He held his arms up over his head, which was down almost to his chest. The blows not only rained down on his back, but up under his arms, as well.

Twice he was kicked so hard that he almost lost his footing and was just barely able to save his balance. Each attempt to avoid a fist or a foot sent him moving a little closer to the fire.

The trolls that were issuing the punishment held no clubs, however, their fists and feet were like hammers, so it was debatable whether their lack of weapons made much difference.

Legolas and Aragorn stared at the utter brutality of the trolls’ treatment of one of their own. It served to re-enforce their belief in the vicious nature of trolls. It also re-enforced their fears of what was likely to happen to them.

Pickett suddenly went to his knees, while his arms still tried to protect his head. It didn’t take long for Hatch to start shouting for him to get up. His reaction was to hunch down until he was almost lying on the ground.

“Git up, you worthless sack of filth,” Hatch yelled. Unfortunately for Pickett, the troll leader backed up his words with a few well-placed kicks.

Pickett slowly got to his feet. As soon as Hatch stepped aside, the other trolls began their assault again.

The last troll in line used both hands to shove Pickett toward the flames. He yelped, as the heat singed the thick, wiry hair on his body, and he threw himself back away from the pain. He hit the dirt and began scooting backwards as fast as he could get his arms and legs to move.

The horrible odor of burnt hair was carried on the wind and soon filled the clearing. It thrilled the gathering of large creatures and repulsed Legolas and Aragorn.

The trolls all laughed and pointed at Pickett, who was now sitting on the ground and whimpering.

Aragorn tried to muster some sympathy for the pitiful creature, but the memory he had of being slammed into the hut wall by this troll kept him from finding very much of that particular emotion. He flexed his sore back to act as a reminder that Pickett was a troll.

Legolas was fighting his own battle to keep from sympathizing with Pickett. He easily remembered Aragorn’s unconscious body lying in his lap, and his concern for his friend served as the reminder to harden his heart.

Hatch approached Pickett again, this time standing over him. “Git back in the cage,” he commanded. The scorn he felt at the pitiful sight of the beleaguered troll prompted him to give Pickett one last kick.

It didn’t take long for Pickett to get to his feet and flee back to the relative safety of the barred enclosure.

Hatch ignored Pickett’s escape and turned his attention on Legolas and Aragorn.

Running through both of their minds was the prospect that they would soon be experiencing this cruel and potentially deadly game.

TBC