The Huntress (Legend and Lore Book 2) (3 page)

Liv grabbed her own saddlebags as well and hurried after her. The inn was small, only one story tall, but it was nice and homey and the fire in the front room was lit. Liv felt instantly at ease.
 

“Lady Amala!” A very small, very round woman appeared in front of them, beaming up at Amala as she dried her hands on a cloth. “I knew you’d be back soon. I have some food boiling on the oven. Are you hungry?” Her eyes slid over to Liv and her smile grew a fraction. “You’ve brought someone with you this time? Hi, my lady, I am Elly.”
 

“Pleased to meet you,” Liv replied with a smile and small curtsy. “I am Liv.”
 

“Come on, ladies, sit down. I’ll bring some food out for you in just a moment.” She ushered both Amala and Liv over to the table closest to the fire, then bustled back into what Liv could only assume was the kitchen.
 

“They seem nice,” Liv told Amala, sitting down with a sigh in the comfortable chair.
 

“They are.” Amala issued a small, wry smile. “This is my favourite village.” She then turned sharp eyes on Liv. “When we get up in the morning, we’re going into the woods and I will teach you some swordsmanship, as per your request.”
 

Liv felt her stomach knot nervously at that. “That is much appreciated,” she said and she meant it. “I really do want to learn, though I expect I will be horrible.”

“Who isn’t their first time?” Amala grinned. “You’ll do great, Liv. I am an excellent swordswoman, and I believe you’ll take to it quickly.”
 

Liv could only hope so, though she doubted it. She was normally slow at learning. It took relentless studying and training for her to pick things up. She would do her best though. That was all she could do.
 

Wood clashed against wood as Liv parried Amala’s strike. She tried to hold the stick in position, but Amala was much stronger than her. She easily pushed Liv’s hands out of position and held the tip of her own stick to Liv’s throat.
 

Liv stepped back, and instantly collapsed on the ground, letting the sword roll out of her hand onto the grass. “This is exhausting,” she groaned. “I am not made for this.” She had never held a sword in her life—and if she had known just how heavy they were, she never would have agreed to it.
 

“Don’t women in the capital get warrior training?” Amala sat down next to her, crossing her feet under herself.
 

“A woman can choose it at the University, but few do. I did not—I had enough to do taking my magic courses. They might not be hard for the body, but they certainly are hard for the mind.”
 

“Why don’t more women take the warrior path?” Amala questioned.
 

Liv shrugged, though it was awkward, as she was lying flat on the ground. “It is just looked down upon. Women are weaker than men physically, so men should be the fighters, women the nurturers. That is the way it is among the royalty and the concept has spread to the rest of the people. I can say for certain that no noble woman has chosen to fight, at least not in my time. Those that do choose to fight are commoners—people who do not have much else going for them.”
 

“That’s bollocks.” Amala tilted her head back to look up at the sky. They were in a small clearing in the forest that Amala had found the previous day. “Men might be stronger than women physically, but women have other attributes. Like, we’re smaller, faster and more flexible. A woman can get close to an enemy and have him out of commission by using those skills instead of facing the opponent straight on.”
 

Liv tilted her head to the side, looking up at Amala. Her profile contrasted against the trees behind her. Even overcast, the sky shone light on her, making the blue highlights in her hair all the more visible. The braids were still tied back by the sash she used as a headband. Liv found the braids to be quite fascinating. She had never seen anyone with quite that colour of hair and certainly not someone with that many braids. It had to take a full day to braid it all.
 

She turned her head away when a rustling sound reached her ears. The ground started shaking slightly and Liv propped up on her elbows, frowning. “What is that?”
 

Amala slowly got to her feet, sword gripped tightly in one hand as she let her eyes travel over the woods around them. Liv stood up as well, snatching up her own sword, though she would not be much help with it if something were to happen.
 

The rustling was coming closer and the shaking grew in size. Liv stared at the ground and saw the leaves at her feet move with the ground’s quaking. “Amala?” she asked, her voice full of dread.
 

Amala stood poised to fight, eyes trained straight ahead.
 

Something burst out of the tree line ahead of them, something enormous and grey and ugly. Liv screamed.
 

“Troll!” Amala shouted, grabbing ahold of her arm. “Run!”

Chapter Two

The Troll

“Run, Liv!” Amala shouted at her. “I cannot fight a troll and win!”
 

But Liv could not move. Not because she was paralysed with fear this time but because she felt magic. Powerful magic nearby. And it certainly could not be the ugly, hairy troll approaching at high speed having such powers, so someone else had to be out and about in woods...
 

Suddenly, tree roots shot out of the ground and wrapped around the troll’s ankles and arms, stopping it quite effectively and keeping it locked in place. The troll, big ugly brute that it was, howled in anger and thrashed about but the tree roots did not budge.
 

Liv watched, completely mesmerised. She could feel Amala pressed up against her arm, watching as well. The troll was completely stuck and not happy about it, as indicated by its furious roaring.
 

An arrow came from behind Liv. It moved with such speed that she did not even see its flight before it pierced the troll’s chest. The troll instantly stopped struggling and turned to stone. It cracked apart, each huge piece of stone falling to the ground with loud crashes.
 

Liv whirled around, hoping to see the one that had killed the troll.
 

“What the—“ Amala mumbled next to her.
 

Two people stood a distance away, just past the tree-line. The one furthest back had dark brown hair that curled around his neck and over his ears, with a fringe that covered almost the entirety of his brow. The other one, the one in front, still held a bow in his hands. He had black hair that fell around his face in soft curls and his eyes... his eyes were completely black.
 

“Who are you?” Amala demanded as she stepped forward in front of Liv. “Who are you that you can kill a troll?”
 

“You should not be out in the woods by yourselves,” the one with the bow and the black eyes spoke. “These are dangerous territories.”

“And I keep the villagers residing here safe,” Amala snapped. “So don’t tell me what danger is. I know it well enough.”
 

The other man stepped up to his companion’s side. This one’s eyes were strange as well, the pupils were black, but instead of the iris and the white of normal human eyes, his were an odd mix of yellow and orange. Not human eyes, that was for sure.
 

She could not read them. Though the set to the man’s jaw could have been agitation or annoyance, she could not quite decide which.
 

“Then keep safe,” the second one spoke up, his voice deeper than the first. “And keep out of way of trolls.” The two seemed to simply vanish into the woods. They were out of sight as quickly as they had arrived.
 

Liv let out a shaky breath, her eyes straying to the cluster of stone. “Was that really...?”
 

“A troll, yeah.” Amala turned to the stones as well. “Quite an adventure for you. Your first lindworm, then your first troll. Lindworms aren’t unusual here, but... a troll. That is strange indeed.” Her eyes swept the woods.
 

“Why is that strange?” Right then, Liv felt every bit the sheltered princess that she was.
 

“Trolls usually keep to their territories, which lie in the Jotun Mountains,” Amala explained, “and we are very far from those mountains.”
 

“But surely they must want to wander?” Liv questioned, feeling silly, but the pile of rocks had her twitching in nervousness. It was unsettling, that whole scene. She did not like it. “Creatures are curious by nature.”
 

Amala cast her a look before going back to watching their surroundings. “Trolls are to the Jotuns what Neanderthals once were to the humans.”
 

Liv blinked, not quite understanding.
 

“Trolls are big, ugly, primeval brutes, stupid as the rocks they become when killed,” Amala explained. “Speaking of killing, I have never seen anyone actually kill a troll.”
 

“What?” Liv stared at her, frightened. She remembered what Amala had shouted when the troll had arrived, that she could not fight it and win.

“The only way to kill a troll, that I know of, is to bring it into direct sunlight.” Amala’s hand twitched closer to the hilt of her sword. “It kills them the exact same way as this one was killed, by turning them into stone. But piercing a troll with an arrow... a troll’s skin is almost as hard as a dragon’s scales. It is impossible to penetrate. But this man, he managed it. I wonder how.”
 

Liv bit her lip. She had nothing to offer—she was just as confused as Amala. Even more so since Liv had never experienced anything outside the capital before. Yet here she was, on her own, with a warrior woman for a companion meeting lindworms and trolls. She had chosen this path herself, so she was in no position to complain. It was still overwhelming. And yes, frightening, but having Amala there felt safe, even if the woman had admitted to not being able to kill a troll.
 

“Let’s go back to the village,” Amala told her, turning away from her perusal of the woods. “It’s starting to darken. We’ve been away long enough. If trolls are so far out of their territory, there could be more dangers out there. Trolls scare lindworms because lindworms can’t kill trolls and the worms know it.”
 

Liv shivered at that and obediently followed Amala back the way they’d come.
 

Liv sat cross-legged on the floor, the contents of her saddlebag covering the floor around her. She grabbed her pouch, the one that she could tie to her side. Her grimoire was too big for it, it had to stay in the saddlebags, but she gathered all her herbs, taking extra care with the one Dragon’s Treasure leaf she had left.
 

The Dragon Tree was extremely rare and the leaves highly valued. Only a witch could harvest the leaves, thus their name, but once they were plucked anyone could use them. They were highly powerful if used properly and extremely dangerous if used otherwise.
 

Liv glanced up at Amala, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her sword lying across her thighs. Amala was running her hand almost lovingly over the hilt, which Liv now noticed was made of what could only be gold and bedecked with tiny diamonds.
 

“That is a beautiful sword,” she said, successfully drawing Amala’s bright eyes to herself.
 

“Yes, it is,” Amala replied, her hand moving to grip the hilt tightly before letting it go again. “It’s been in my family for generations.”
 

Liv saw an opportunity to get to know more about this exotic companion of hers and she instantly took it. “Do you see your family often?”
 

Amala’s hand tightened on the hilt again and she bent her head to look at it. “No, I do not.”
 

“Because you travel so much?” Liv could not stop herself from pursuing the subject.
 

“No, because they do not approve of me,” Amala replied tersely.
 

Liv frowned at that. “How can they not approve of you? They are your family.” She might not like her family but she still loved. Some of them, anyway.
 

“Because I did something I should not have done,” Amala told her, voice cold. “So I was banished from my tribe, never to return again. All I had were the clothes I wore and this sword.”
 

Liv eyed the sword again. It had to be a very expensive, very valuable sword. “They let you leave with it?” she asked incredulously.
 

Amala raised her head, meeting Liv’s gaze right on. “Once a sword has been passed on, it can’t be taken back,” she replied stonily. “This sword’s been mine for so long it’s become a part of me. Taking it from me would be worse than death—and it’s something that is never done in my tribe.” She turned slightly, putting her sword away. She was obviously done with the conversation.
 

Liv’s mind was running wild. Tribe... that likely meant Amala was not from Lore. Could she be from either the Dragon or the Jotun Territories? Or maybe from across the ocean? But then again, some did refer to themselves as tribes in Lore as well. Shifters, for example, could refer to themselves as a tribe. At least, that was what she had been taught, by Bas.
 

Bas... Liv wondered what he was doing now. She knew he was alive, though he was not close enough for her to feel his heart beat any longer. She guessed such a distance could weaken the perks of the bond. She did not mind particularly, except it was strange... she had always felt Bas’ heartbeat and it was weird that she now did not. She had never heard of not being able to hear it, even from such a distance, but then she had never had any interest in researching it.
 

She missed Bas, she did. At the same time it was good being away from him. Being bonded to someone like Bas who was so unlike herself... it was not easy. She knew Bas resented it sometimes, when they were at their worst.