She woke with a start and looked into the sputtering glare of a torch. Its light wove across the crags and gullies of the troll-husband's face and shimmered wetly off the great tusks in his mouth.
"Good morning, father," said Cappea politely.
Hildigund thrust back a scream.
"Come and be eaten," said the troll-husband.
"No, thank you," said Cappea, regretfully but firmly. "'Twould be ill for my health. No, I will but trouble you for a firebrand and then the prince and I will be off."
"If you think that stupid bit of silver will protect you, think again," he snapped. "Your three sentences were all that saved you last night. Now I hunger."
"Silver," said Cappea didactically, "is a certain shield against all black magics. So the wizard told me, and she was such a nice white-bearded old woman I am sure even her attendant devils never lied. Now please depart, father, for modesty forbids me to dress before your eyes."
The hideous face thrust close to hers. She smiled dreamily and tweaked his nose--hard.
He howled and flung the torch at her. Cappea caught it and stuffed it into his mouth. He choked and ran from the room.
"A new sport--trollbaiting," said the bard gaily into the sudden darkness. "Come, shall we not venture out?"
The boy trembled too much to move. She comforted him, absentmindedly, and dressed in the dark, swearing at the clumsy leggings. When she left, Hildigund put on his clothes and hurried after her.
The troll-husbnd squatted by the fire and glared at them as they went by. Cappea hefted her sword and looked at him. "I do not love you," she said mildly, and hewed out.
He backed away, shrieking as she slashed at him. In the end, he crouched at the mouth of a tunnel, raging futilely. Cappea pricked his with her blade.
"It is not worth my time to follow you down underground," she said, "but if ever you trouble women again, I will hear of it and come and feed you to my dogs. A piece at a time--a very small piece--do you understand?"
He snarled at her.
"An extremely small piece," said Cappea amiably. "Have you heard me?"
Something broke in him. "Yes," he whimpered. She let his go, and he scuttled from her like a rat.
She remembered the firewood and took an armful; on the way, she thoughtfully picked up a few jeweled rings which she didn't think he would be needing and stuck them in her pouch. Then she led the boy outside.
The wind had laid itself, a clear frosty morning glittered on the sea and the longship was a distant sliver against white-capped blueness. The minstrel groaned. "What a distance to row! Oh, well--"