way from here to the Blade Mountains and never see another living thing.' He
fingered his sword. 'At least not for very long.'

He threw the butt of his cigarette into the water. 'It's all farms now. All
little farms, run by little people. And fences everywhere. Everywhere you look,
farms and fences and little people.'

'She's right, of course,' said the troll, continuing some interior
conversation. 'There's no future in just jumping out from under a bridge.'

'I mean,' said Cohen, 'I've got nothing against farms. Or farmers. You've got
to have them. It's just that they used to be a long way off, around the edges.
Now this is the edge.'

'Pushed back all the time,' said the troll. 'Changing all the time. Like my
brother-in-law Chert. A lumber mill! A troll running a lumber mill! And you
should see the mess he's making of Cutshade Forest!'

Cohen looked up, surprised.

'What, the one with the giant spiders in it?'

'Spiders? There ain't no spiders now. Just stumps.'

'Stumps? Stumps? I used to like that forest. It was... well, it was darksome.
You don't get proper darksome any more. You really knew what terror was, in a
forest like that.'

'You want darksome? He's replanting with spruce,' said Mica.

'Spruce!'

'It's not his idea. He wouldn't know one tree from another. That's all down to
Clay. He put him up to it.'

Cohen felt dizzy. 'Who's Clay?'

'I said I'd got three brothers-in-law, right? He's the merchant. So he said
replanting would make the land easier to sell.'

There was a long pause while Cohen digested this.

Then he said, 'You can't sell Cutshade Forest. It doesn't belong to anyone.'

'Yeah. He says that's why you can sell it.'

Cohen brought his fist down on the parapet. A piece of stone detached itself
and tumbled down into the gorge.

'Sorry,' he said.

'That's all right. Bits fall off all the time, like I said.'

Cohen turned. 'What's happening? I remember all the big old wars. Don't you? You must have fought.'

'I carried a club, yeah.'

'It was supposed to be for a bright new future and law and stuff. That's what people said.'

'Well, I fought because a big troll with a whip told me to,' said Mica, cautiously. 'But I know what you mean.'

'I mean it wasn't for farms and spruce trees. Was it?'

Mica hung his head. 'And here's me with this apology for a bridge. I feel really bad about it,' he said, 'you coming all this way and everything...'

'And there was some king or other,' said Cohen, vaguely, looking at the water. 'And I think there were some wizards. But there was a king. I'm pretty certain there was a king. Never met him. You know?' He grinned at the troll. 'I can't remember his name. Don't think they ever told me his name.'

About half an hour later Cohen's horse emerged from the gloomy woods on to a
bleak, windswept moorland. It plodded on for a while before saying, 'All
right... how much did you give him?'

'Twelve gold pieces,' said Cohen.

'Why'd you give him twelve gold pieces?'

'I didn't have more than twelve.'

'You must be mad.'

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