Just a few days after their larger camp, the trolls under Sa’Thuk took a new rest, and in a less favorable place. However, that was not his biggest concern, although the two were directly linked. His fire was a little way from the rest, on a small ledge covered by the largest tree in the area, from where he had an overview of the spontaneous camp. This allowed him to consult with the older trolls and his rear guard in peace. “So we have four days at best,” he murmured thoughtfully to himself. “And if we do a forced march? That would buy us more time and we could make it through the area.”

  “You might as well tell our group about the Redshards, too,” Djar’Ku suggested. That was hardly an option for him. ”Don’t you think?”

  “Everyone knows that we are being followed.”

  “But not that the Redshards are approaching much faster than we expected.”

  “They seem to be driven by rage,” Sa’Thuk read from a tiny parchment that a nimble monkey had delivered. He had received it from Jeli’rhawa, who had been traveling behind the group as a scout for several days. ”Apparently, the skulls didn’t have the effect we had hoped for.”

  “What do you mean, ‘we’?!”, old fisherman Ataz grumbled reproachfully. ”We told you to bury the corpses somewhere in the jungle without a trace! The fact that the Redshards are now pursuing us with vengeful feet is your fault!”

  “Don’t be so loud, stinking fisherman!” Sa’Thuk growled warningly. He raised his right hand to strike. ”And watch your tongue!”

  A hand shot out to grab the group leader’s arm.

  Djar’Ku had grabbed the leader’s wrist, reminding him that he might be old, but there was still a little strength left in him. “That’s not going to help us now,” he said calmly but seriously. “We have to solve this problem somehow. You said yourself that Mejhek’s scout returned with a promising message. We are not far from a safe haven.”

  Sa*Thuk looked at the old warrior with narrowed eyes, but slowly released his grip on his wrist. “Yes, a very good place, which seems to be unclaimed, hidden and difficult to attack. With the Redshards on our heels, we won’t reach it in time. However, if we manage to destroy the bridge, we will definitely gain a lot of time.”

  “What bridge?”

  “Mejhek’s scout said that halfway through the journey there is a natural land connection across a gorge and that it is the only crossing for miles around. The area is criss-crossed by small and large gorges and long rock formations. It’s the perfect opportunity to finally get away from the Redshards.”

  “Somehow I feel there’s a catch,” Djar’Ku suspected. This was because his group was already on the edge of the territory of another troll tribe. ”Is this area also unclaimed?”

  “Not quite,” Sa’Thuk shook his head. ”Mejhek found fresh markings there. In fact, the territories of at least three tribes seem to border each other here.”

  Among the four oldest trolls attending the meeting, there was only one female. “That sounds worse than it probably is,” Nozaka said. Long ago, she had been a la’jatal and was very educated. “Don’t you think?”

  “If you tell us why that should be,” Sa’Thuk snorted impatiently. “Speak, old woman.”

  Nozaka didn’t let herself be rushed or intimidated. “You’d rather fight, wouldn’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

  “That might be the best solution before we exhaust ourselves with a forced march, yes.”

  “Well, fighting is a good choice,” Nozaka explained. She had never been a warrior herself, but her mate had often proven himself to be a clever tactician, not a modest muscleman. “But we don’t have to fight them ourselves. We’re already on the border of a tribe. With a little skill and luck, we could distract them to our pursuers. After all, there are supposed to be around 70 or 80 warriors, right?”

  “Warriors and several packs of wind-jackals, yes.”

  “Well, who do you think the trolls are more likely to attack in the vicinity? Us or a heavily armed war party?”

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  “That’s a really good idea,” Djar’Ku agreed. He knew there was no guarantee, but the wanderers were less likely to be attacked by other tribes if they hadn’t previously been in rivalry with them. That was because wanderers were rarely seen as a real threat as long as they didn’t settle right next to a tribe or severely violate their territory when passing through. “And if those trolls march up to protect their border, it could draw attention to the tribe that owns this gorge area. Then we might be able to get through there without a problem and reach Mejhek’s place, and we don’t have to think about how to destroy a land connection without voodoo or shamans.”

  “Letting others fight for us? That’s not a sign of strength,” Sa’Thuk said, not very approvingly. ”If we’re not even able to defend ourselves, I wonder if we should even exist as a tribe.”

  Nozaka spoke calmly, but her severity could not be denied. “What you have to ask yourself, if you really want to be our jatal, is what is best for the tribe.”

  “I do!” Sa’Thuk insisted, and he saw it that way. ”If we don’t show strength to the outside world, others will think we are weak, and how long will it take before other tribes attack us?”

  “I may be wrong, but our top priority is to rebuild anyway, in secret and not looking for conflict. If we fight and, against all expectations, win, we are more likely to send a strong signal that we are a threat that must be nipped in the bud.”

  “Wise words,” Ataz, Djar’Ku and the third elder agreed. Djar’Ku added, ”Sometimes it is also not a bad idea not to reveal your true strength... especially if there is only a little of it.”

  “Only a little of it?” snorted Sa’Thuk contemptuously. As a young warrior and leader, he felt particularly addressed. ’Can any of our people have even less trust?”

  “I could have been honest and said very little,’ Djar’Ku noted, and tried to share his own experiences. ”Don’t let your pride blind you, or how other tribes might see us. You have to know what you can do and when you can do it and eventually, we can do much of what many in our group, and you, want.”

  “All right,” Sa’Thuk conceded. He appeared annoyed, not wanting to obviously submit to the advice of the elders. ”I assume you elders have failed often enough that you now know better than I do.”

  “Exactly,” Djar’Ku laughed, just like the rest. They were hardly affected by Sa’Thuk’s rude tone. ”However, if we can’t get rid of the Redshards, a fight will be unavoidable. But then we should make sure that we fight from the best possible position.”

  “That can be arranged,” Sa’Thuk agreed. ”After our scout has had some rest, I’ll send him ahead again. He’ll take a close look at the route ahead of us and Haki will make sure that the nearby troll tribe becomes aware of us, or rather the Redshards.”

  The four elders nodded in agreement. “Then it is decided,” said Djar’Ku, looking at the rest of the wanderers below the rocky outcrop. “We should give the group another hour’s rest and then march at a slightly faster pace.”

  “A slightly faster pace, then, hm?”

  “Of course. We can mention that our scouts have found a good place for a village and that we want to reach it as quickly as possible.”

  Sa’Thuk grinned. “As long as you old chatterboxes don’t break down, that’s fine with me.”

  “You just wait,” Nozara remarked with caustic humor. “The four of us will probably outlive you.” For this, she receives a dirty laugh from everyone, including Sa’Thuk.

  What none of them suspected was that they were being watched. Inconspicuous and sitting on the branch of a tree was a bird whose plumage was as gray as dust and whose eyes had a faint, eerily luminous blue.

  A similar bird, not far from the temporary resting place, witnessed a less wordy spectacle, which was rather characterized by sounds and muscle movements.

  One of the younger hut females in the group was being taken by Blood Tusk. A tree served as her base, as she was pressed against a comfortable hollow in the wood, which allowed her to sit or lie down. Her firm, but slightly smaller breasts were exposed, her arms held on to sturdy branches and her legs were firmly pressed around the gladiator’s hips. She actually belonged to one of the worker males and she had always been faithful and curious, but the carefree boldness of the giant, coupled with her own imagination and temptation, had turned curiosity into adventure.

  Adding to this another pair of eyes was watching, but filled with jealousy and envy. Behind one of the trees, Haki lurked, watching the goings-on with one eye and half-concealed face. Quietly but firmly, she pressed her sharp fingernails into the bark and released her anger in a long scratch. She was supposed to be under the giant! He belonged to her and it infuriated her that he refused her and barely exchanged a word with her anymore. However, lust was also running around with her anger, because even at this distance, she could perceive the smells of lust. She pressed her crotch against the tree and bent her leg against the trunk, rubbing herself against it and moaning very softly to herself.

  But Blood Tusk didn’t even know that Haki was there, and his full attention was on the female beneath him. He had no qualms about mounting another’s female, and that was clear to see. Once more, he pushed his hard spear deep into the hut troll’s lap before both he and she passed their climax. All his weight was on the female, whose clenched crotch he filled with his seed, while his heavy, throbbing testicles pressed against her wet lips.

  This drove Haki just as crazy, causing her to bite her own arm to stifle the sounds of her orgasm. Her twitching body against the tree testified to her pleasure, although her intoxicated thoughts were increasingly filled with one thought – if I can’t have him, then no one can!