These are hoodoos. The rest of my comments are at the end of the story.
Red Rock West (1000 words)
Red tracked the fugitive up into the foothills. The runaway had brushed out his hefty footprints and got in amongst a crowd of hoodoos, so it was tricky picking him out. Red slid from his mule’s saddle holding a rope, dropped a noose over a rocky pillar and tied the other end round his wrist. Then he waited for the sun to go down.
“One barrel I took,” said the troll, when it woke up, “for my brother’s century party.”
“Uh huh. I s’pose your poor sick granmama was there too,” said Red.
“I’ve been in service to Birchbane for ten years, never seen him drink a drop. Didn’t think he’d miss it, the joyless old turd.”
“You broke the law. Picked a bad time for it too, with the new Baron wanting to make his mark. Come quietly, and you’ll most likely get a few years hard labour. Unless you can pay the absolution fine.”
“Haven’t got any money.” The troll fumbled at the loop around his neck. “What’s to stop me taking this off and leaving you out here with a broken leg?”
Red shrugged. “Try it. That’s elf-made. Long as I live, it’ll do what I want. I hear trolls can last a while without breathing.” He patted his mule. “Old Obstinate can drag you til you come round.”
They plodded over the star-lit scrubland. “We’re going west,” said the troll. “Birchbane’s place is east.”
“The Baron wants all prisoners taken to him for sentencing by Longest Day,” said Red.
“Through the Badlands?”
“I’m getting paid forty gold to go through. Are you going to try and scare me with some old tall tales?”
They travelled on in silence until sunrise turned the troll to stone.
#
Red had heard the water in the Badlands was salty and stunk like rotten eggs. They stopped at a rickety trading post on the border that was open day and night. Red went in, the troll shuffling after him at the end of the rope.
The slick-haired clerk told Red, “All the fresh water your mule can carry for twenty silver.”
“Uh huh. And you’ll throw in the other mule I could buy for that?” said Red.
“Lot of demand here, sir. Pushes up the prices. You’ll be getting a big reward when you hand over that ugly rock you got there.”
Red gripped the rope, but the troll didn’t move. “I’ll take that water now.”
“New Baron’s coming down hard,” said the clerk, filling a canteen. “Heard they caught a rock that stole a cart and broke it into a bunch of pebbles.”
The troll still didn’t move, but Red could feel him shaking through the rope.
#
They passed through bare hills like striped jelly moulds, by dead pools reflecting the stars, over cracked plains covered in salt that glittered and crunched like frost. The troll didn’t say much, just looked around. Red was glad of his shade to sleep in when the sun hammered down.
“A couple more nights, I reckon,” said Red as they took a break to eat. “You’ve given me no trouble. I’ll put in a good word for you with the Baron.”
The troll shrugged. “I think my sentence has been decided. I’m glad I took the best barrel, and my brother got to drink it.”
Red sucked from a canteen. “We’re getting low on water, that bastard sold me short. I think I see grass over there, reeds maybe. Could be fresh water.”
“I wouldn’t...” the troll said.
“What?”
“Never mind. The sun’s coming up soon.”
“Bring the mule,” said Red. Obstinate had other ideas. He dug in his hooves, rolled his eyes and made a racket. The troll slung all the canteens over his shoulders and they went on foot.
There was a big pond, a few silky ripples spreading on it. Red bent to taste the water. It was sweet and cool after the warm, leathery-tasting stuff they’d been drinking. There were more lazy ripples and then something whipped out the pond like a riled snake, and wrapped itself around Red’s ankle. He jerked back, trying to prise it off, as suckers sunk into his skin. Another tentacle lashed around his leg. Red struggled for the knife on his belt, was yanked and dragged, cool water closing over his head. He thrashed around, trying to pull free, but there was nothing to brace against. His chest burned with the need for air.
There was a tug at his wrist, then a wrench. The elf rope. Red grabbed onto it with both hands. The beast still gripped his ankles and legs, but the pull on the rope was unstoppable. It dragged them both to the surface, Red glimpsing dinner plate eyes and a razor-eged beak. The beast let go and Red skimmed over the pond at the end of the rope, gouged a trough through the reeds and on through the sandy soil. Then the sun came up.
The troll was frozen in a flat out run, rope in hand. Red stood in his shade, shook dirt and stones out of uncomfortable places and thought.
That night, Red said, “All you had to do was stand still. That elf rope’s got no power when I’m dead. Two minutes, you’d have been stone and that beast couldn’t’ve touched you.”
“I thought about it,” said the troll.
Red sighed. “I got to bring you in. I can’t go back on my word.”
#
The Baron was short and looked like he had a temper to match. His guards hustled the troll away.
“I may have more work for you,” the Baron said to Red. “Getting rid of the ... criminal element.”
“I serve the law,” said Red as he collected his gold.
The trial was short and pointless. Red said what he could, but the troll was sentenced to shattering.
“Unless,” said the Baron, laughing, “anyone sees fit to pay the troll’s absolution. It’s fifty gold.”
“Uh huh.” said Red. “That’d be me.”
[End]
A while back, I wailed to my boyfriend "It's my turn to write the Friday Flash. What should I write?" He set me the challenge of writing a story that included beer, World of Warcraft and a squid. I didn't use it right away, but it sat there fermenting in the back-brain and this is what came out. Of course, if it was true to WoW, Red would have killed the troll and stolen its trousers, but that would have made for a very short story, even for flash.
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