CHAPTER 37 I’ll Never Turn Down a Bit of Gossip

Henrietta

I came upon the bridge a few hours later and stopped to refill my enchanted waterskin—dysentery was no joke.

If you've crossed one bridge in the Dark Enchanted Forest, you've crossed them all. I discovered this when a familiar figure hopped onto the path in front of me and drew herself up.

I face the shadows,

The light as well,

Control all water,

Without a spell.

Who am I?

"Gerda?!" I squealed with delight.

My favorite bridge troll winked at me. She was wearing a loose white tunic with a floral print vest on top and a pair of loose tan pants tucked into calf-high brown leather button-up boots. "I'll not count that as your answer to my riddle. Who am I?"

I scrambled to remember the riddle that had flown past me. After a moment I hesitated and asked, "The moon?"

Gerda chuckled and stepped aside, waving a hand to show I'd guessed successfully. The troll quipped, "I gave you an easy one because I'm a kind and patient troll. Don't let me catch you off your game a second time!"

"Oh, you did it on purpose?" I countered, not really angry. "What would you have done if I got the answer wrong?"

"I believed in you," Gerda said, ignoring my question. "Now, did you want to head on or stop in for a bit of tea and gossip?"

"I'll never turn down a bit of gossip."

Gerda grabbed the ledge of the sideless bridge and swung herself over. I climbed carefully down the bank and found a familiar door under the bridge. A bit of troll magic later, and I was carefully placing the crate of eggs safely beside my boots inside her enchanted spacial cottage.

"So, are you in control of just these two bridges, or are there more?" I asked, taking a seat at her kitchen table.

Gerda placed a cup of dandelion tea in front of me, and I added a spoonful of honey. She set out a bowl of fresh huckleberries for a snack.

"There are more." Gerda smiled, looking very pleased with herself. "At least four, though I won't tell you where. It's more entertaining that way."

"What about the other bridge trolls? Don't they get upset that you're hogging all the bridges?"

Gerda chortled. "Princess, I'm the only bridge troll."

"In the whole Dark Enchanted Forest?"

"In the whole Dark Enchanted Forest," she said. "Most of the trolls live in the mountains or work in the army. We don't have a city, just our own caves scattered about. The last bridge troll was an ancient old coot named Larry. He's retired now, and I happily took over."

Gerda sipped her own tea. An interesting thing to watch, as the woman had stunning lower canines that peeked just over her upper lip.

We shared a companionable silence for a minute, drinking tea and eating berries. Then I asked, "So … gossip?"

"You'll never guess who is on their way to the castle right now!" Gerda said.

"Who?"

"Countess Julia von Slyke of North Sumbria!"

I tilted my head. "Grand Duchess Calisto's daughter?"

"Yes!" Gerda looked at me like she was sharing an inside joke that I didn't understand.

"But why?"

The troll eyed me and popped a berry in her mouth. "Someone at the castle has a long-distance relationship with the countess … and I have it on the best authority that Julia has come here to get the jump on her lover—and propose!"

"It's not Keith, is it?" I panicked, wondering who else I knew eligible enough to woo Grand Duchess Calisto's daughter.

"What, of course not!" Gerda shook her head, sending her many dark-green braids toppling over her shoulder. "It's Chloe! After Julia heard about the war, she threw on her armor and mounted her fastest horse, setting off for Nilheim as quick as she could. You might still make it back in time to see her arrival if you hurry. She only just passed the border today."

The thought of running all the way back to meet Chloe's girlfriend was tempting, but … "I really want to visit Gren's Keep," I said.

"If you are going to Gren's Keep then you have to visit the Damp Gizzard. Olen's rumblepot stew is heavenly … though I don't recommend their tea. ‘Stout or get out,' as the old man likes to say." Gerda chuckled, a deep growling rumble.

I sipped my tea and listened while Gerda told me more about Gren's Keep and its unique shops. Out of all of them, I was most interested in Verily's Vases, Logan's Noodle House, the Damp Gizzard and Thulebert Thorn. The last was a special surprise I didn't expect to find in the Dark Enchanted Forest.

"Thulebert Thorn moved here from Peldeep about three years ago," Gerda explained. "He wanted to be closer to the dwarven outpost without having to actually live at the outpost."

"What's wrong with Frolin?" This was as good a time as any to ask for information on my destination.

Gerda thought for a second, tapping a finger on her chin, then explained, "The dwarves are very happy to meet with outsiders in Frolin, but they aren't quite so happy when people monopolize the space for other things."

"So they want travelers to buy their wares, not set up shop and become competition?" I reasoned.

"Exactly." Gerda nodded. "The place is very big, but there's no suburbia. You have a shop, and you sleep up top."

"Good to note. Do you know Chancellor Grimly?" My hope was to arrive, drop off the eggs with the chancellor, and then make it to Gren's Keep for dinner. I could do it if I left here in the next half hour and pushed my mana to the limit with repeated [Quick Step]. "The ol' dodger will be at Grim's Golden Greaves," Gerda said. "If he's at the shop."

"If he's not at the shop, who else is in charge?"

The bridge troll shrugged. "No one's ‘in charge.' They're dwarves."

I'd met with the dwarven trade delegation in Drendil many times, but I'd never visited the dwarven nation before. It wasn't that they didn't accept outsiders per se, just that my parents were racist against most of the rest of the continent, and since Drendil was cut off from the continent by the Dark Enchanted Forest, we did almost all international travel by boat. Sumbria, Servalt, and North Sumbria stretched up the eastern coast, with Peldeep to the west. There was a trade delegation from the dwarven kingdom that passed through Nilheim to Drendil on occasion, but there wasn't much travel the other way. As such, I said, "I don't understand."

"The dwarves," she explained, "have a king, but the king isn't a hereditary title; it's a job to complete the ancestral ceremonial rites. It is often passed down in one family, but when the king of the dwarves dies, the title is given to the next dwarf who is most qualified. The actual kingdom is run by a council of elders."

"I see."

Gerda leaned forward, offering me the last of the huckleberries in the bottom of the bowl, and I shook my head. She ate them and then took the plate to her kitchen sink to wash and set out to dry before coming back to join me at the table. She continued, "Frolin is actually run by a merchant council. They take turns each session being first speaker, but that just means the rotation of who gets to talk in which order changes. They are all on equal footing."

"That sounds like a nightmare for getting things done …" I didn't like a lot of my parents' choices, but I also had seen the amount of time it took a committee to come to any conclusion.

"It is," Gerda agreed. " But I'm sure you'll have no problem finding Chancellor Grimly."