Land of Salvania

  This was a stupid idea, Henri thought. He wondered if the other more experienced troll hunters were playing a prank on "the new laddie," leaving him out here while they swilled beer back in town. "You block this trail," one had said. "The troll will spot you long before you spot him, and he'll slip to the left since the river is on the right. See?" Yes, Henri saw. He saw he had been played for a fool. "We will be spread out over here," he had pointed left. "And one of us will drop him." He gave it another hour, and he stomped off. This was a stupid idea. /// Copyright

  Pooki raised the hackles on her back and growled long before Sir Andrew spotted the hill worm. "Got over them hills quickly," the old farmer had said while Sir Andrew bartered with the farmer's wife for bread and cheese. "Don't let the sun set on you or I'll be collecting your bones tomorrow." Pooki stiffened as the huge worm raised up from the leaf litter, her growl changing to something more urgent. Gods, this thing was huge. Most of the worm - maybe two thirds - was still on the ground, but the part that raised up was taller than any person. It was as thick as his torso, and it stank of decay. "They got yella blood," the farmer had said. "It is poison. It also oozes out of its scales. I seen one. I know. One killed a stray calf last year." Pooki snapped her jaws, her nostrils flaring with the reek of poison. Sir Andrew drew his sword, already trying to figure out the best way to attack this unholy thing. The worm dropped ...