A Servant of Arubhár 01

"We can earn some of what we need from the trolls with our bodies, true. But don't go thinking it'll be easy and fun. While there's some pleasure to be had, the trolls are rough and demanding. They paid for the pleasure, after all, and they'll use you hard, and use you well. There's only so much your body can handle before it wears out."

Appreciating her friend's concern, Anári gave her a smile. "I understand. Still, the prospect of being able to do something to better our circumstances lifts my spirits. I'm tired of being hungry and cold. And it's not like the trolls come here that often. We're too far out from any of the main roads leading through these lands."

"They'll be passing through here more often now." Marwena glanced up as the first drops of rain began to fall. "One of the caravans belongs to a business owner who's established trade with a troll city not far from here, and we are on their route." At Anári's questioning look, Marwena shrugged. "I've ordered some rare herbs for my mother the last time they came to town. They assured me they would be travelling this way regularly now."

"Regular traffic, wouldn't that be a relief." Anári's voice was filled with hope. All of a sudden, her day seemed a little bit brighter. If they planned it well, found something to trade other than only their bodies, they might just be able to bring some life back to the village. "You better take this sheet back inside," she said when the rain began to fall harder. "I don't think it'll let up for a while. Do let me know if you need those logs. I can gather some more tomorrow." Feeling better than she had in a long while, she bid Marwena a good day, and headed toward her parent's cottage. Soon, she hoped, their lives would improve a little, at least.

********* CHAPTER 2 *********

A FISH. SHE'D caught a fish. And a decent sized one at that. Delighted with the idea of having something other than eggs for dinner, Anári picked up the basket she'd placed on the ground next to the pond, made her way back toward her home. She might just see if she could dig up some carrots from their little garden, help her mother fix a real meal.

She'd found a few more mushrooms as well before she'd had to rest her fatigued body. Perhaps she'd fry them with the fish tonight. Stomach growling in anticipation, she paused every now and then to pick up a log for the cooking fire. It couldn't hurt to have some extra, with winter almost here.

An icy breeze tugged at her cloak when she stepped out of the woods. At least the sun had cleared the first early morning frost. Carefully, for the ground was slippery, she followed the small path back to the village when a movement in the distance caught her eye. She held her breath so the plumes of air wouldn't obstruct her view, then squinted against the rays of the setting sun. Her heart began to drum a rapid beat in her chest, and the breath rushed out of her lungs. A caravan was drawing near.

Trolls.

The thought left her equally nervous and excited. For the past ten days, the conversation with Marwena had spun through her mind. She'd considered her options, and what she would do. It had seemed rather enticing when she'd thought it through. Now that the moment was here, all she felt was apprehension.

Nerves danced in her belly as she continued walking on. True, there was coin and food to be had. Perhaps even a little pleasure. But she didn't have the slightest clue how to approach a troll. Let alone with an offer to sate his needs. Huffing, she pushed the worry down. She'd figure something out. For now, she was more than ready for a hardy meal.

A flock of wild geese glided by overhead, the last stragglers heading south. Sometimes, Anári wished she could follow them, wondered about the places they had seen. Verenosi might lay in ruins, but there were other kingdoms in this world. Surely life couldn't be this harsh everywhere. Still, with the rays of the setting sun casting the empty, muddy fields in a warm, golden glow and the troll caravan approaching, there was hope that even this barren corner of the world could once again thrive.

Holding this hope in her heart, she pushed through the door to her parents' cottage. It was cold inside the small common room, the fire not yet lit to preserve what little wood she'd been able to gather over the summer and fall. They'd traded their tools long ago, so they had to rely on what had already fallen, unable to cut down any trees. And with the bitter cold of winter ahead, they'd need every last log to stay warm.

"I caught a fish today," she addressed her father, who was sitting in a chair, an old, ragged blanket draped over his remaining leg. Excitement lit her face as she held it out for him. "We can fix up a real supper tonight."

"Who's one lousy fish supposed to feed?" her father growled in answer, bitterness lining the corners of his mouth. "You're supposed to gather wood and search for mushrooms, not waste hours sitting idly by the pond for one small meal. There's been nothing but weeds in those waters for years. What are we supposed to eat the next few days?"

Sighing, Anári set her basket on the table. She didn't bother to mention that she'd only sat down because she'd been too exhausted to continue. Her father had never been an easy man to please. But since the war, where he'd lost his right leg and three sons, he'd become unbearably hateful and angry. She understood the resentment, the despair. She truly did. But things would never improve sitting here, complaining about everything.

"It'll do us some good to have a little meat with dinner. And give us some strength for the days to come. I'll go check with mother, see if there aren't some vegetables we can scrounge up."

Her father only grunted in answer.

Stepping through the back door, she found her mother taking down a blanket she had hung to dry. "I caught a fish for supper," she said as she approached the stern woman. "Are there any carrots left we could use to fix a meal?" Her mother had aged decades in the last few years, Anári thought when the older woman turned to look at her.

"There's but one left. And it isn't big enough to harvest. If we wait another week, we'll have twice as much to eat."

"Perhaps I can trade for some seeds with the trolls later on tonight. There's a caravan pulling up to the village."

Her mother harrumphed. "You've got your head in the clouds. We've nothing to trade. And don't think they'd give in to you begging. They care nothing about humans."

Anári wasn't about to tell her mother about her plans, or the discussion with Marwena. Still, her stomach had been rumbling all day, and she'd so been looking forward to a special meal. "I could haul some water from the well and bring it to them. Surely they'd appreciate the gesture."

Eyes hard, her mother propped a fist on her hip. "If one of your brothers were still alive and here, that plan might work. But you can't even manage to haul more than a few buckets back to the house, let alone all the way to where the trolls will be camping."

Anári hunched her shoulders. She was well aware that her mother had never been happy giving birth to a girl. Short of breeding and tending to the men and home, the older woman didn't see much use for women. Certainly not in having another woman in the house, since she already fulfilled that role in her own home. With no men of marrying age around, Anári had become more of a nuisance to her mother, no more than another mouth to feed.

"Perhaps, after a decent dinner, I'll have some strength left to do the work." Anári wasn't willing to give up quite yet.

Folding the blanket over her arm, her mother shook her head. "You collected mushrooms, didn't you?"

"Yes." Even to Anári, her own voice sounded small, defeated.

"Then that'll do for supper. We cannot risk what little we have." Dismissing any further protests, her mother walked back to the cottage.

Knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue, Anári followed her back inside. "I'll see to cleaning the fish, that way you won't have to worry about it later."

Her mother walked to the table, set the blanket down. "Is that all you managed to gather?" She pointed at the basket sitting there.

"It'll be enough for tonight. I wasn't feeling too well, so I rested for a bit by the pond. I'll get some more tomorrow. And I brought some wood to replace what we'll use for the cooking fire."

Huffing out a breath, her mother dumped the contents of the basket. "You're useless, I swear. Can't even manage to stay on your feet long enough to see that we've enough to eat. And you want to use a half-grown carrot thinking you'll haul water to the trolls." She walked around the table, shoved the basket at Anári. "What if you don't feel well tomorrow either? What if it gets too cold to spend much time outside? You've one responsibility, girl. Now get back in those woods and find us some mushrooms."

It was hunger making her fatigued, Anári wanted to yell. But she simply took the basket, nodded her head. There was no use making her mother even angrier. Perhaps, if she hurried, she'd be able to locate enough before dark. She'd have to rush through dinner as well, she knew, if she wanted to finish in time to make her way down to the caravan. This was her one chance to do some trading with the trolls, and she didn't want to miss it. It might be months before the trolls came through here again, despite Marwena's assurances. Surely they wouldn't do much travelling in winter.

When she returned to the cottage a little after dark, she saw bright light glowing in the windows through the threadbare blankets covering them, beckoning her inside. She was half frozen and weary to the bone, but she'd managed to collect another few dozens of mushrooms. The fire looked bright and inviting, and she couldn't wait to spend at least a few minutes basking in its warmth. Stepping up to the back door, she briefly wondered why her parents had decided to waste this much wood this early in the year. Then dismissed the worry, too chilled to care. She'd take a little time to warm her hands, gulp down a quick meal. And head back out into the cold. She had a plan to stick to.

Fatigue threatened to overwhelm her, but she reminded herself of the rewards to be gained. Opening the door, she stepped through it, then stopped short, startled by the sight.

There was a troll woman sitting at the table near the fire, curiously studying her. Her mother was in the chair next to her, a mug of something steaming in her hand. Even her father, face usually tight with anger, wore a relaxed, almost content expression.

"Hello," Anári called in greeting, not sure what else to say.

"And there's my daughter now." Her mother rose along with the troll, and had Anári's stomach clutching with anticipation.

The troll gave her a quick up-and-down study, then pursed her lips. "She doesn't look like much."

"She'll do just fine, once you get some meat back on her bones," her mother quickly stated, coming up to take the basket out of Anári's arms. "We've had a bit of a hard time lately, as you can see. But she works well enough with some food in her belly."

"What's going on?" Anári asked cautiously, not sure if she truly wanted to know. Setting the basket and its measly contents out of view, her mother grabbed her elbow, pulled her further into the room. "The lady is considering you for service."

Lady. Anári barely managed to suppress a snort. Her parents hated the trolls, blamed them for all that had befallen them. As if it hadn't been the greed of humans that had brought on this mess.

"Service?" Anári repeated. "I'm afraid I don't understand." Perhaps the troll was looking for exactly what she'd planned, she mused. Someone to see to the needs and desires of the males travelling in her company. Then again, Anári highly doubted the trolls would stick around long enough to put some meat back on her bones. Most certainly not during winter.

"I own some businesses back in my lands." The troll stepped closer to her as she spoke. "I'm in need of a few more wenches to help with all the work that needs to be done."

She seemed to be about middle-age, Anári noted. With smooth skin of a light gray color, and only a few laugh lines around her mouth and eyes. Her nose was broader than a human's, her eyes a bit more wide-set and almond shaped. Small, fine horns sprouted from her forehead and the sides of her jaw, but otherwise, her face was remarkably similar to a human's.

"Lady Dara has offered us an exceptional amount to take you with her, back to her home," her mother interceded. "We'll no longer live in squalor, and you'll be taken care of as well."

"You sold me?" Anári couldn't keep the indignation from her voice.

Her mother put an arm around her shoulder. A gesture meant more to restrain than comfort. "Into a better life, yes. We'll all no longer have to worry about food on the table or much needed supplies. There's nothing for you here, Anári. At least this way, we'll all survive."

Unable to process it all, Anári moved to free herself, felt her mother's arm tighten.

"I trust she'll come willingly." The troll gathered her thick, fur-lined coat from where it was draped over the chair.

"Of course, my lady," her mother ensured her, glaring at Anári in warning.

Grunting, the troll shrugged on her coat, then turned back to Anári. "Pack what you can't leave behind. But don't worry about the basics. We've more than enough to see you dressed and provided for. We'll leave here first thing in the morning."

With that, the troll woman gave a curt nod to the room in general, then walked out of the door.

Legs wobbly with shock, Anári sank into a chair. "You sold me," she whispered once more.

"'Tis for your own good." Her mother took the chair across from her. "We haven't enough food to get us through another winter. There's nothing left to replant next year. The whole village is starving, and there's naught we can do. Take a look around. We've no tools left, no blankets, no clothes."

"You don't owe her an explanation," her father put in from his chair. "It is a woman's fate. Should've been married a long time ago. But there's no one around she can take for a husband. No man for her to tend to, make a home, and bear his heirs. She's twenty-six years old by now. It's time for her to make a living, to make her own way in this world. The cursed troll needs work done, and she's willing to pay. So Anári will do the work and not complain about it. We've housed and fed the girl long enough."

Still reeling with the news, Anári blew out a long breath. Oh, how she'd wished that her life would change, that prosperity would return to the village, or that they could leave it all behind. This wasn't quite what she'd imagined. But did it truly matter in the end? Less than two weeks ago, she'd been ready to set out on the road, to find a way to make a better life for herself, to help the villagers. It seemed that fate had given her an opportunity, and she'd be stupid to turn it down. It was true what her parents had said. There was nothing for her here. Even if they found a way to survive the next few winters, she'd never have a husband or a home of her own.

No, this was likely the best thing that could have happened to her. Still, she thought of Marwena, her friend's ailing mother. She had to be sure her parents weren't the only ones who prospered with this deal.

Looking up, she addressed her mother. "How much is the troll willing to pay?"

"Enough to see us fed and dressed for years. And not just us, the whole village. Gave us coin for now, that troll did, along with enough food to last us a while. Said she'd be bringing more food, cloth, and much needed supplies on their next stop here in a couple of weeks."

"They'll be bringing more hens, and a few roosters as well." Her father shifted in his seat. "And some wood to help us fix the old barn. Perhaps, by spring, we can purchase a cow, so we can have some cheese and milk."

Milk . . . Anári's mouth watered at the thought. She barely remembered the taste from her youth. "But who'll do all the work?" she expressed her concerns once she'd wrapped her mind around it. "There'll be only mother and Marwena left."

Her father lifted a shoulder, let it fall. "That troll claims her workers will help us repair the barn. There'll be more people here come spring, in any case. Said how she'd plans for this town."

"Plans? What plans?" It all sounded too good to be true, Anári thought.

Leaning back, her mother took another drink from her steaming mug. "She's expanding her business, and needs more fertile fields. Since we're on her route, and not using what we have, she said she might as well start growing things here."

"What things?"

"Some blasted beet of theirs that would apparently do well in this soil." Her father's usual gruff tone had returned. "Who cares? She'll bring some married workers in to see to the work. Their wives can clean up the abandoned cottages, and care for the elderly in need. She'll pay the village for the use of land, so we'll have a steady income. I care less what the trolls grow. As long as the town recovers."

"And she told us not to worry about the lords. That she'd see that the taxes are paid, and that we won't be bothered," her mother added. "But you better eat your fish, then get upstairs and packing. You've some long days ahead of you, I'm sure, and we don't want to keep the trolls waiting in the morning."

It was all too much to process, so Anári rose, went to grab her plate. Dazed, she barely tasted the meal she'd so been looking forward to. Her mind still raced by the time she rinsed off the dishes, set them aside to dry. Then climbed the ladder to the loft.

She packed her few precious belongings, decided to leave the rest behind. There was not much left worth salvaging, in any case. Figuring she was likely too nervous to get much sleep, she rested her head on her pillow, closed her eyes. Wondered briefly if Marwena was with the caravan, earning those special herbs her ailing mother desperately needed. And drifted off into dreamless sleep.