The Hidden City

smaller place with fewer of the man-things.’
    ‘But there are many of the dens-of-cloth on the other side of the water hole,’ the Troll added, pointing at the large tent city on the far side of the oasis.
    ‘Those are the ones we hunt,’ Ulath told him.
    ‘Are you certain that we are permitted to kill and eat those?’ Bhlokw asked. ‘You and Tin-in would not let me do that in the place Sepal or the place Arjun or even in the place Hat-os.’
    ‘It is permitted here. We have put bait out to bring them to this place so that we can hunt them for food.’
    ‘What bait do you use to lure the man-things?’ Bhlokw asked curiously. ‘If the minds of the Gods ever get well again and they let us go back to hunting the man-things, it would be good to know this.’
    ‘The bait is thought, Bhlokw. The man-things in the dens-of-cloth have come to this place because certain of our pack-mates put it in their thought that the tall man-things with the yellow skin will be here. The ones in the dens-of-cloth have come here to fight the tall ones with yellow skin.’
    Bhlokw’s face contorted into a hideous approximation of a grin. ‘That is good bait, U-lat,’ he said. ‘I will summon Ghworg and Ghnomb and tell them that we will go to the hunt now. How many of them may we kill and eat?’
    ‘All, Bhlokw. All.’
    ‘That is not a good thought, U-lat. If we kill and eat them all, they will not breed, and there will not be new ones to hunt in the next season. The good thought is to always let enough run away so that they can breed to keep the numbers of their herd the same. If we eat them all now, there will be none to eat by-and-by.’
    Ulath considered that as Bhlokw cast the brief Troll-spell that summoned Ghworg and the others. He decided not to make an issue of it. The Trolls were hunters, not warriors, and it would take far too long to explain the concept of total war to them.
    Bhlokw conferred at some length with the enormous presences of his Gods in the grey light of No-Time, and then he raised his brutish face and bellowed his summons to the rest of the herd. The great shaggy mass flowed down the hill toward the village and the forest of tents beyond the oasis in the steely light of frozen time as Ulath and Tynian watched from the hilltop. The Trolls divided, went around the village, and moved in among the Cynesgan tents, fanning out as each of the great beasts selected its prey. Then, evidently at a signal from Bhlokw, the chill light flickered and the sunlight returned.
    There were screams, of course, but that was to be expected. Very few men in the entire world will not scream when a full-grown Troll suddenly steps out of nowhere immediately in front of them. The carnage in that vast slaughtering-ground beyond the oasis was ghastly, since the Trolls were bent not on fighting the Cynesgans but on tearing them to pieces in preparation for the feast to follow.
    ‘Some of them are getting away,’ Tynian observed, pointing at a sizeable number of panic-stricken Cynesgans desperately flogging their horses southward.
    Ulath shrugged. ‘Breeding stock,’ he said.
    ‘What?’
    ‘It’s a Trollish concept, Tynian. It’s a way to guarantee a continuing food-supply. If the Trolls eat them all today, there won’t be any left when supper-time rolls around tomorrow.’
    Tynian shuddered with revulsion. ‘That’s a horrible thought, Ulath!’ he exclaimed.
    ‘Yes,’ Ulath agreed, ‘moderately horrible, but one should always respect the customs and traditions of one’s allies, wouldn’t you say?’
    At the end of a half-hour, the tents were all flattened, the breeding stock had been permitted to escape, and the Trolls settled down to eat. The Cynesgan threat in the north had been effectively eliminated, and now the Trolls were free to join the march on Cyrga.
    Khalad sat up suddenly, throwing off his blankets. ‘Berit,’ he said sharply.
    Berit came awake instantly, reaching for his sword.
    ‘No,’ Khalad told him. ‘It’s nothing like that. Do you know what firedamp is?’
    ‘I’ve never heard of it.’ Berit yawned and rubbed at his eyes.
    ‘I’m going to have to talk with Aphrael then—personally. How long will it take you to teach me the spell?’
    ‘That depends, I guess. Can’t you pass what you have to tell her through me?’
    ‘No. I need to ask her some questions, and you wouldn’t understand what I’m talking about. I’ve got to talk with her myself. It’s very important, Berit. I