The day of reckoning had arrived: for the wanderers, the Riverfangs, the Baldslayers and for the as-yet-undiscovered Venomsnakes.

  It was late noon in the Diamond Jungle and except for a few clouds, the sun was beating down hot, while the first skirmishes between the Riverfangs and the Baldslayers took place between bushes and trees.

  A big fight hadn’t broken out yet, but many of the smaller fights took place in close proximity to the stone crossing, which was the only prospect of safety for the walkers. Along the 60-meter-deep and 25-meter-wide gorge, and especially on the unsafe side of the natural bridge, there was a lot of free, if uneven, space and almost no protection. Beyond the bridge, stone rock formations rose again, with only one path where there was only one way back and forth and a possible trap could be quite deadly.

  It could just be a few skirmishes at the moment and Khojun didn’t really want to deal with these vermin, but if the ancestor was really here somewhere, he would certainly not let him escape. A troll-like, animalistic, deep battle cry erupted from the throat of the 2.75-meter-tall warrior, with which he swung his oversized two-handed sword through two baldricers at once.

  Before the fighting began, the Baldslayers squad was equal in number to the Riverfangs 50 against 50, with the reinforcements promised by Zu’ji not yet having arrived.

  “Time to pay up, filthy scum!” snarled a Baldslayer female warrior, who leaped into the fray, death-defying, with her serrated, two-handed battle-axe.

  Khojun blocked the attack of the much smaller female, but there was a force behind the attack that he had to control first. “You have violated the sacred commandment of the tiki!” he replied with conviction. “And thus you have sealed your death sentence!”

  The crossed weapons parted, with the river-tooth warrior jumping back. “Your greed is equal to your lies, rotten fang!” she insulted. She knew nothing of the wanderers and was firmly convinced that the river-teeth had entered her tribal territory. “You invaded our territory days ago, and thus broke every peace!”

  “Stupid female!” Khojun spat on the ground without mercy. ”The sun has been shining on your bald skulls for far too long.”

  Sa’Thuk led the first group of wanderers hastily but as quietly as possible. He was only a few minutes away from the crossing, although the sounds of battle had been heard from afar.

  The wanderers’ plan was to move in small groups of five to seven trolls, with a few minutes’ distance between them, so that they would present as little of a target as possible. They had left their camp in the underground cave and everyone was carrying only the bare necessities, which meant: weapons, a bit of food, fresh water or those puppies that couldn’t walk alone or were too slow and too easily frightened.

  Sa’Thuk’s pack consisted of Mejhek and three other warriors. His main concern was to secure the transition as well as possible before the others arrived, even though he would have preferred each group to have full-fledged warriors as an escort. However, his vanguard and rearguard had the most warriors, so not all trolls had experienced fighters with them. There were usually two protectors per pack, a real warrior and a male or female laborer who was most capable of fighting and had been armed.

  “Stop!” Mejhek whispered from the undergrowth. Everyone behind him stopped, and he put an arrow on the string of his bow, which he then tensed. Silently and with a direct hit between the eyes, he killed a Riverfang scout who had been hiding in a treetop. “Onward!”

  The protection of the dense jungle was no longer there, and in the open space in front of the crossing, any troll could have seen the travelers. However, they reached the crossing without any problems, and Sa’Thuk gave orders. ”Mejhek, you secure the other side! I’ll stay here!”

  “We won’t let you down, my Jatal!” Mejhek nodded obediently, as did the warriors, and they ran over the bridge. All of them had fierce, different war paint on their faces, but on their foreheads, and whoever wore war masks over their faces, the same trollish sign for wanderers in gold-dotted paint was painted on each of them in the whole group, so that they could be distinguished in the heat of the moment.

  Sa’Thuk took his large, spiked iron mace from his back and kept a close eye on the surroundings, ready to lead his trolls into battle.

  No matter how you looked at it, everything was a risk. For this reason, the wanderers had decided that the first group after the advance guard should consist only of one warrior and the the three most physically fit non-warriors, who carried nine of the fourteen whelps of the community or held their hands. The adults hurried as fast as they could with the young followers into the open, so that they should be taken out of the game as a risk factor as early as possible.

  Sa’Thuk watched them without letting his attention for his surroundings weaken. The words of Djar’Ku were still in his head and he waited for what he didn’t even know was no longer far away.

  22 Venomsnakes were just 100 meters away from the clearing. From the thicket of the jungle their lurid green eyes rested on the unknown trolls and they had been waiting there for several hours in readiness.

  As in the raid on the puck caravan, Tu’kesa led them, but their primary goal was to capture the ancestor alive and not to compete with enemy tribes. She had no worries about the small number of her trolls and also because she had a shaman and a true monster with her, which could easily keep a dozen trolls in check.

  “Hurry up!” Sa’Thuk waved the first group forward before they safely crossed the passageway and he exhaled quietly. ”The tiki seem to be well-disposed towards us.”

  For the moment, this thought was true, but it would not remain so for much longer. The second group of wanderers, which should reach the clearing in a few minutes, consisted of three of the four elders, as well as the weakest females and Haki as protector. However, their path was still safe, as was that of Nira’theba, who marched through the jungle with her three whelps in the third wave after the Elders.

  As a protector, and with his large katana in his hand, which was more of a curved battle-sword of a troll-like nature, Djar’Ku accompanied pack number four, which also included Zalun’s female Ma’rhya and her two children. If the old warrior and this group could reach the bridge, half of the wanderers would be safe, but it was not going to be that easy.

  Suddenly, two Baldslayers emerged from the thick greenery on the right, shouting war cries that startled the wanderers.

  Djar’Ku’s old bones cracked as he had to react so quickly out of nowhere. He let the foremost opponent come at him and dived past him to trip him up. In the same motion, he swung his katana from bottom to top, keeping the next enemy at a distance.

  “Trolls without souls!” the female opponent spat. ”Did the Riverfangs hire you?!”

  Djar’Ku didn’t react to the question. Instead, he feigned an attack forward and that worked. His opponent remained in a defensive position, but the experienced warrior didn’t want to attack her. As always, he had tied a rope to the handle of his big katana, which was not only intended for pulling. It also served as an extension and allowed him to use an unorthodox fighting style. Now he let go of the weapon. Like a massive pendulum and without looking back, he swung the great battle-sword behind him on the rope.

  The previously tripped Baldslayer was just standing up, puffing fiercely, and he didn’t see the blade coming, which suddenly pierced the back of his head.

  As soon as Djar’Ku felt the resistance, he pulled hard on the rope and his weapon continued the circle, only this time the old warrior cut half of the females opponent’s head off.

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  With the death of the two warriors, however, the long tone of a trollish whistle whistled through the air, revealing the hiding place of a third Baldslayer. He had stayed behind and was now running away.

  “Did he just raise the alarm, Djar’Ku?“, Ma’rhya asked uneasily.

  “I’m afraid so,” Djar’Ku replied as calmly as he could. He tried to keep the situation under control. “Therefore, let’s move on quickly. Forward!”

  When the whistling sound blew over the trees, troll ears twitched in every trunk, in every corner near the gorge, alert. Whether Riverfangs, wanderers, Baldslayers or Venomsnakes, all knew - a slaughter was about to begin.

  “Damn,“ Sa’Thuk grumbled as Haki just passed him with the elders and weak females.

  “What now?”, Haki asked, not crossing the bridge. “Should I go back?!”

  “No, we will continue to guard the crossing,” Sa’Thuk decided. Perhaps he could draw attention to this point and create the necessary distraction for his fleeing trolls. ’We’d rather have strangers looking at us as a clear target. At least until the two groups of whelps are through.”

  “And the rearguard?’ Haki murmured vaguely. “By the time they get here, it could be a battlefield, if they even make it.”

  “Then today we will truly see if this impure is so special,” Sa’Thuk replied. Yes, the gladiator had kept more than just his part of the bargain, and yet, Sa’Thuk would not risk his if the unconscious troll did not make it here.

  Not new whistles, but slow, deep drumbeats soon filled the air. Riverfangs and Baldslayers used them to let all their scattered scouts know that it was time to gather.

  Was it luck? The will of the tiki? Or were the two tribes too focused on each other? Whatever it was, the combat zone moved dangerously close to the crossing, but was spared from hostilities.

  Instead, arrows and spears flew back and forth between the trees, and a larger mass of about 25 trolls each from the Riverfangs and the Baldslayers met in the cramped jungle.

  Only Khojun did not let himself be completely distracted by the ensuing fight. He stayed in the second row, because his hatred and thirst for revenge clouded his thoughts, but at the same time they focused his will on the unclean alone, and his instinct told him that he would surely appear soon.

  After hearing the whistle and then the drums, Djar’Ku had expected the worst and the fulfillment of Ja’Jen’s vision. Apart from the surprise attack, however, he managed to move on with his followers without any problems. At least until he saw the group around Nira’theba cowering next to a tree, which surprised him. “Why aren’t you moving forward?” he asked sternly. ’It can’t be much farther.”

  “D-don’t you see?’ Nira’theba replied, swallowing. She held her terrified whelps close to her. ”Our protectors are gone. They lured trolls away from us.”

  “So you were waiting for us?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good idea,” Djar’Ku praised confidently. He had to radiate enough assurance, otherwise he would not be able to move the shivering trolls at all or only to a limited extent. ‘Now we are here. Let’s go.’ With these simple words, he patted the head of Nira’theba’s son Jakhan despite the audible horror in the jungle. “And you will help me, won’t you? Climb on my back and keep an eye out for evil trolls.”

  Hesitantly, Jakhan looked up at the old warrior from the protective embrace of his mother. Seeing him with that huge sword calmed the whelp, and after getting an affirmative nod from his mother, Jakhan wiped his nose.

  Djar’Ku allowed him to mount up before taking the lead. “Now, let’s see if you can keep pace with an old troll like me,” he said, quietly goading the group, and it worked. Fear remained, but they all continued their hasty march with him, and their reward was swift safety, for they were still expected at the crossing.

  “We seem to have lost the first warriors,“ Haki murmured softly when they saw the two groups running together.

  “That was unavoidable,” Sa’Thuk replied, still rational, but his body was screaming to let his boiling blood break free. “The main thing is that we have the weakest on the other side of the gorge. Now we don’t have to take consideration anymore.” The fingers on the handle of his iron club tightened as the wind carried the scent of blood to his widening nostrils and he caught sight of the first clearers appearing in the clearing.

  Djar’Ku was the first to hand Jakhan over to Nira’theba halfway through. “Don’t stop running!” he said, urging them on, before breaking out to the side and confronting the enemies. He was panting heavily and after only three strikes, he drove his battle-sword through the chest of a female warrior.

  “That old fart!” Sa’Thuk snarled, inspired. He would not hide behind a doddering elder. ”Woman, watch our backs! It’s my turn now!” He stormed forward at once, using the higher ground to leap powerfully through the air, his club swinging wide towards the enemy. His target raised a large, sturdy wooden shield to block, but Sa’Thuks blow shattered the defense with ease and tore half of his opponent’s face off with the same blow. Warm, spurting blood sprinkled his body and the fire in Sa’Thuks muscles flared up as he stood next to Djar’Ku, baring his teeth, facing the next opponents. “Hail Meneka!”

  While the problems manifested themselves at the front, the end was not spared either, because just as Djar’Ku had already come across those left behind, the same thing happened for Zalun. He was in the rearguard with Jeli’rhawa, pulling the stretcher with the wounded Blood Tusk, while two other warriors were running in front of them. However, the gladiator was not the last one behind Zalun.

  The rearguard had found two of the three remaining groups on their way. They had not dared to continue alone, as they had found the missing group completely slaughtered.

  Therefore, Zalun was now walking with a very large group, which the wanderers had actually wanted to avoid, but they had no other choice now. “The noise is getting louder,” Zalun remarked cautiously. “We must be close to our destination.”

  “I don’t want to lie,” Jeli’rhawa admitted quietly. ”What wouldn’t I give to sacrifice to the tiki now, so that our protector would wake up healthy and teach them all fear.”

  “He is not our protector and not responsible for us,” Zalun said, slightly offended, thinking back to the last conversation with the gladiator. However, that didn’t change his respect and gratitude towards the wounded man. ”He gave us the chance to get this far, but now it’s time to see if we are worthy of this chance and can teach others to fear without him.”

  Jeli’rhawa smirked tensely. “Is this a matter of honor among males?” she joked to ease her tension.

  “Ha!” Zalun grinned in unison with the stress. “Somehow I have to banish the guy from my female’s thoughts.” His retort was enough to ease some of the tension in the group that was close to the clearing.

  Unfortunately, a Venomsnake scout had spotted them and was scurrying over several roots and through unpleasant bushes. “Tu’kesa!” he reported quietly so as not to betray the hidden Venomsnakes. “He’s coming! This giant is coming, but apparently he’s badly injured and unconscious on a stretcher!”

  “Badly wounded?”, Tu’kesa snorted angrily. ”We need him unharmed! How can that be?!”

  “No idea. The wounds don’t look too fresh anymore. It must have happened days ago.”

  “Mhpf, it doesn’t matter as long as he’s still alive!” Tu’kesa dismissed this minor setback. She raised her spear and pointed its tip towards the clearing. ”First row! Get ready to attack! Kill everyone! Except for the giant, nothing must happen to him! Remember - Haruk’Zil himself wants him!”

  Ten Venomsnakes lay and crouched in the cover of the jungle. Their breathing grew deeper and the snakes’ inspired war masks were pulled up over their faces.

  In the clearing, Sa’Thuk and Djar’Ku stood back to back, surrounded by half a dozen cutthroats. The old warrior was a little more battered and worn out, but both were already drenched in blood. They might often disagree and even dislike each other, but now, in the decisive moment, they fought side by side for their lives and for those of all wayfarers.

  “Elder, you’re not going to die of a weak heart on me,” Sa’Thuk snorted belligerently. ”Are you?”

  “No, I’m just giving you a chance to catch up,” Djar’Ku countered, panting. Although he had barely marched for an hour and hadn’t fought for long, everything in his body ached. ”I’ve taken down more so far, so you better show your best while you still can.”

  “Catch up - I’ll shame you now!” Sa’Thuk announced. An animalistic roar escaped his throat and, like his comrade-in-arms, he confronted the Baldslayers in front of him. He saw out of the corner of his eye that the rest of his group seemed to be coming out of the jungle in one go, which is why he fought all the more fiercely.

  Some of the warriors from the large group were about to reach Sa’Thuk and Djar’Ku when suddenly several arrows and spears came flying from the other side. Several trolls were injured and some were killed outright.

  Even for troll eyes accustomed to the jungle, it took a moment to realize the ten Venomsnakes that had run out of their hiding place. For a moment, it was as if they were one with the jungle green.

  “Fight them off!” Zalun ordered. He had no choice and let go of the stretcher. With Jeli’rhawa and five warriors, he formed a defensive line for the remaining trolls. “Take care of the wounded and go over the bridge!”

  Those who could not fight did as they were told and tried to save themselves and the wounded to the crossing, which was well defended from the other side by the few, skilled archers and Mejhek.

  Haki, however, did not join the fleeing, but left her place as a rear guard and hurried to the defense line.

  But before this line of defense and the approaching Venomsnakes could meet, another extremely dangerous figure entered the bloody stage.

  He took his time, though, and leisurely put one foot after the other out of the protective row of trees that hid the second wave of poisonous snakes. The male troll wore a half-mask that left his mouth uncovered, allowing him to eat a papaya in bad manners. Dok’Thal was the troll’s name, and according to his hard-to-learn skills as a shaman, he was more ritually and conspicuously adorned than the many warriors. Arrogant and bored, he overlooked the clash between his tribe and the wanderers, just as he looked after the fleeing. “I will give the all-seeing serpent more than just the giant,” he murmured softly to himself. He crushed half a papaya in his hand, and within seconds, the flesh and juice were vaporized by a mighty flame. The shaman’s hands were enveloped in the same fire, which he formed into several balls and hurled them in the direction of the fight.