Troll Mountain: The Complete Novel by Matthew Reilly Page B

The trolls didn’t seem to notice it, but he did.
    The king said, “I imagine there will be, old man, especially if the mead is flowing. Why? Do you want to challenge somebody?”
    The assembled trolls laughed loudly. The king enjoyed his own joke.
    Ko smiled. “Oh, no, no, your majesty. I only ask that when you are done with your activities tonight, you release me .”
    Ko never looked at Raf as he spoke—not even a glance—but Raf now knew that Ko was addressing him and not the king.
    Raf furrowed his brow, trying to figure out the meaning behind Ko’s cryptic words: king, challenge, Fighting Platform, during the wedding feast, and when you are done with your activities tonight, you release me.
    No  … he thought.
    It couldn’t be …
    Was Ko suggesting …
    But that was madness.
    Ignorant of the secret messages being passed, the king just laughed at Ko’s words. “Ha! Release you! My generosity only goes so far, old man. When this night is over, I will be sucking the marrow from your bones!”
    Ko’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, dear …”
    Turv stepped in. “Guards. Take the old man to the cells on the western wall.” He turned to Düm: “And you, dragger, take those salt barrels and ready them, we shall make use of them tonight. The whole tribe shall enjoy your gift. Then return to your duties: after all, we have a feast to prepare!”
    Ko was taken away to the cells. Düm dragged his stone sled toward the kitchen area on the eastern side of the hall.
    Raf was watching them both—still thinking about Ko’s message—when, from his position in his suspended cage, he heard Turv say in a low voice to his lackeys: “Later tonight, after I am wed, bring Düm to the Fighting Platform, unarmed. There I shall take my hammer to his knees until he begs me to end his life.”
    The prince’s cronies cackled.
    Raf could only watch Düm dragging his sled toward the kitchen area, head bent, shoulders hunched, unaware that he had just been sentenced to die.

Chapter 21
    As the sun crept lower in the western sky and storm clouds moved in for the night, the trolls of Troll Mountain gathered in the Great Hall for the wedding of Prince Turv to the she-troll, Graia.
    Throughout the afternoon, none of the trolls noticed Düm going about his labors—dragging sleds of food and positioning his prized barrels of salt around the hall. He placed them thus: one up on the king’s podium, solely for the king’s personal use; and three at the bases of three of the mighty columns of the hall (the fourth column, the north-eastern one, stood within the kitchen area and so didn’t require one).
    Raf, however, observed him every step of the way, and at one point, Düm risked a furtive glance up at Raf.
    Then Düm went upstairs to the windswept Winter Throne Hall with the last two barrels and there—standing alone up on the magnificent open-air platform—he placed one barrel beside the king’s winter throne. The sixth and final barrel he placed beside the north-western column of the Winter Throne Hall, for all the trolls to use. He also did one other thing.
    Then, as the storm clouds took over the sky completely, night came, and the troll wedding began.
    *
    The Great Hall was abuzz with celebration.
    Mead flowed, trolls danced, and the Troll King looked out over his minions and smiled. He threw back a goblet of frothing mead and belched loudly.
    Then the wedding ceremony began and Turv and Graia stood on the steps of the king’s podium, facing each other, Turv in his most princely attire and Graia dressed all in white, with wildflowers in her hair—an oddly sweet and delicate touch, Raf noticed, among such an indelicate race of creatures.
    The she-troll looked miserable. Standing off to the side, so did Düm.
    The king presided over the wedding ceremony.
    “If any here should object to this union, let them say it now!” he called.
    Silence answered him. No one—
    “I have an objection!”
    The crowd of trolls spun,