Chapter 25

A bunch of other trolls crawled up from under the bridge. Each additional troll carried a big rock, a club, or both.

Nata turned to Tomas, “You had to ask.”

“Since I understand we are on your property, I offer some zinc as payment of our toll,” Bartz said, reaching for his moneybag.

The lead troll shook a finger at Bartz like a schoolteacher scolding the class jester.

“We have no need for your silly currency,” the troll said. “We are a barter society here.”

“If you do not want money, then what do you want?” Bartz asked.

“To tell the truth, we just like killing things,” the troll said bluntly. “It’s pretty much all we are good at.”

“Don’t forget pottery!” a troll called from the back.

“Ah, yes, pottery too,” the lead troll said. “We are also quite good at that, but it’s not nearly the tension reliever that killing things is. Thank you for stopping by, by the way, we get so tired of killing each other.”

Bartz had had enough. He was